UC-NRLF 


.— — — __^____^___ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


CERF  LIBRARY 

PRESENTED  BY 

REBECCA  CERF  '02 

IN  THE  NAMES  OF 

CHARLOTTE  CERF  '95 

MARCEL  E.  CERF  '97 

BARRY  CERF  '02 


Records 


OF 


A  Quiet   Life. 


BY 


AUGUSTUS  J.  C.  HARE, 

AUTHOR  OF  "WALKS  IN   ROME,"   ETC. 


REVISED  FOR  AMERICAN    READERS    BY    WILLIAM    L.   GAGE. 


BOSTON: 
ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 

1874. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

ROBERTS    BROTHERS, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


a^{ 


Cambridge: 
Press  of  John  Wilson  and  Son. 


CT738 


CONTENTS. 


I.  The  Hares  of  Hurstmonceaux i 

II.  Augustus  and  Julius  Hare 6 

III.  Stoke,  Alderley,  and  Hodnet 30 

IV.  Changes 40 

V.  West  Woodhay 57 

VI.  Home  Portraiture 68 

VII.  Taking  Root  at  Alton 102 

VIII.  Journals, — "The  Green  Book" 131 

IX.  Village  Duties 138 

X.  Sunshine 149 

XI.  The  Shadow  of  the  Cloud 177 

XII.  From  Sunshine  into  Shade 209 

XIII.  Hurstmonceaux  Rectory 239 

XIV.  The  Silver  Lining  of  the  Cloud 286 

XV.  Home-Life  at  Lime 303 

XVI.  Failing  Health  and  Foreign  Travel     ...  331 

XVII.  Holmhurst 347 

XVIII.  The  Sunset  before  the  Dawn 361 


M567333 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


T^VER  since  the  publication  of  the  "  Guesses  at 
■'-'  Truth,"  "The  Mission  of  the  Comforter;' 
and  "  Sermons  to  a  Country  Congregation/'  I  have 
been  eager  to  learn  what  I  could  as  to  the  external 
life  of  men  so  gifted  as  were  Julius  and  Augustus 
Hare.  Glimpses  of  this  have  been  afforded  by  the 
lives  of  John  Sterling,  Dr.  Arnold,  and  Baron 
Bunsen  ;  but  the  book  which  is  now  presented  to 
the  reader  gives  by  far  the  best  response,  not  only 
to  my  own  inquiries,  but  to  the  curiosity  of  many 
readers.  For,  in  the  upper  circles  of  English 
thought  and  influence,  few  men  have  more  ob- 
viously and  more  deeply  moved  their  contem- 
poraries than  have  the  Hares.  You  touch  them 
everywhere  the  moment  you  enter  those  domains 
of  English  life  where  the  most  significant  move- 
ments of  our  time  have  their  spring ;  and  the  names 
of  Manning,  Newman,  Dean  Stanley  and  Alford, 
Bishop  Heber,  Bunsen,  Wordsworth,  Landor,  Mau- 


IV  PREFACE   TO   THE   AMERICAN    EDITION. 

rice,  Sterling,  and  Arnold,  represent  but  a  part  of  the 
eminent  men  whose  inner  life  and  external  action 
are  traced  upon  these  pages.  These  "  Records  of 
a  Quiet  Life"  are,  therefore,  more  than  their  name 
implies  ;  for  the  great  and  stirring  movements  of 
English  mind  within  our  day  form  no  slight  share 
of  this  book.  But  central  to  all  is  the  life  of  one 
woman,  the  wife  of  Augustus  Hare,  —  a  woman  of 
such  integrity  of  soul,  such  depth,  sweetness,  purity, 
culture,  and  piety,  as  to  have  made  her  uncon- 
sciously the  mainspring  of  those  great  and  power- 
ful intellects,  so  well  known  to  us  through  their 
names  and  their  workings.  With  the  exception  of 
Caroline  Perthes,  I  know  of  no  woman  who  stands 
before  Maria  Hare  in  the  quiet  force  of  character, 
the  product  of  a  genuine  nature,  ministered  to  by 
all  that  is  best  in  our  age,  and  working  out  through 
the  channels  of  the  affections  and  domestic  life. 
And  hence  the  book  will  reach  out  to  a  vastly  larger 
circle  than  that  retired  and  scholarly  one  which  is 
interested  in  the  Hare  family.  A  life  like  this  will 
profoundly  move  and  healthfully  quicken  all  Chris- 
tians, and  will  win  its  way  into  uncounted  house- 
holds, which  may  perhaps  know  little  and  care  little 
for  English  writers  and  thinkers,  but  which  recog- 
nize and  honor  and  love  such  qualities  as  this 
book  reveals.  How  beautifully  Schiller  has  hit  this 
in  his  familiar  lines  :  — 


PREFACE   TO   THE   AMERICAN   EDITION.  V 

"  Denn  wo  das  Strenge  mit  dem  Zarten, 
Wo  Starkes  sich  und  Mildes  paarten, 
Da  gibt  es  einen  guten  Klang." 

"Where  gentleness  with  strength  we  find, 
The  tender  with  the  stern  combined, 
The  harmony  is  sweet  and  strong." 

And  how  true  an  answer  does  such  a  life  as  this 
give  to  those  who  are  wanting  woman  to  come  out 
into  the  clangor  of  life,  and  into  its  externalities 
and  deeds.  Away  from  public  gaze  are  the  pure 
and  gentle  and  strong  souls  which  are  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  time,  and  the  best  possession  of  the 
nation. 

It  has  been  well  and  truly  said  that  the  finest 
type  of  domestic  life,  in  our  day,  is  found  in  the 
family  of  an  English  clergyman.  Even  the  novelists 
give  us  plentiful  hints  thereof,  and  such  works 
as  this  confirm  it.  That  peace,  culture,  unob- 
trusive piety,  home  love,  and  home  beauty  that 
we  all  desire,  but  so  seldom  see,  are  oftener  met, 
I  think,  in  the  English  parsonage  than  anywhere 
else.  Perhaps  the  American  parsonage  follows  hard 
upon  it,  but  it  can  never  be  the  same  till  a  more 
graceful  architecture,  luxuriant  and  overhanging 
vines,  well-trimmed  hedges,  and  the  exquisite  finish 
of  an  English  home  are  found  with  us.  The  pict- 
ures which  are  scattered  through  this  very  volume 
are  evidence  enough  of  this.     But  such  homes  as 


VI  PREFACE   TO   THE   AMERICAN   EDITION. 

this  book  holds  up  are  a  good  "  ensample "  for 
Americans  ;  and  I  do  not  believe  a  wife  or  husband 
can  read  these  pages,  be  their  home  a  peaceful  or 
a  jarring  one,  without  coming  under  the  spell  of  a 
mighty  influence.  Never  has  the  story  of  a  holier 
and  more  lasting  affection  been  told  than  on  these 
pages  ;  nowhere  one  which  has  more  magnetic  power 
to  charm  and  hallow  the  households  of  our  nation. 
This  book  shows  abundantly,  too,  that,  amid 
social  surroundings  of  the  most  dainty  sort,  the 
Christian  life  may  shine  as  the  light  and  warmth 
and  fragrance  of  the  whole.  At  the  very  opening 
of  this  volume  the  reader  encounters,  and  thence- 
forward continues,  with  those  who  are  aristocratic 
in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word.  Birth,  breeding, 
learning,  culture,  all  are  here,  but  not,  as  is  too 
much  the  case  with  us,  divorced  from  a  high  and 
true  spiritual  life,  but  making  this  the  most  potent 
of  all  auxiliaries.  Has  it  not  come  to  that  pass  with 
us,  when  we  almost  take  it  for  granted  that  those 
who  have  had  the  greatest  advantages  are  the  most 
deficient  in  piety  ?  when  we  should  be  surprised 
that  they  should  be  the  most  tender  and  earnest  in 
the  deeper  life  of  the  soul  ?  But  this  book  furnishes 
the  key  to  correct  this,  and  lets  us  into  the  secret 
of  a  life  which  builds,  upon  external  conditions  and 
acquired  advantages,  a  loftier  and  nobler  temple,  — 
one  in  which  a  perfect  symmetry  is  preserved.     J 


PREFACE   TO   THE   AMERICAN    EDITION.  Vll 

often  think  that  in  that  picture  of  the  New  Jerusa- 
lem, which  is  to  come  down  one  day  from  heaven 
and  rest  upon  this  earth  of  ours,  the  height  and 
length  and  breadth  are  to  be  equal.  Is  there  not  a 
gracious  hint  in  this  of  a  symmetry  in  character 
which  we  have  too  long  neglected  ? 

As  I  have  read  this  book  in  its  uncurtailed 
English  form,*  and  the  preface  of  its  author,  Mr. 
Augustus  J.  C.  Hare,  I  have  felt  again  and  again, 
with  constantly  renewed  gratitude,  what  a  privilege 
is  afforded  here  of  entering  circles  which,  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  nature,  would  have  closed  up 
with  the  death  of  their  members,  and  be  as  if  they 
had  never  been.  Who  of  us  has  not  longed  to 
enter  the  homes  of  our  greatest  men  and  women, 
and  listen  to  their  voices  and  feel  the  power  of 
their  presence?  Their  autograph  may  reach  us, 
and  has  to  content  us,  from  the  very  conditions  of 
the  case ;  and  what  comes  to  us  must  be  their  public 
words  and  the  rumor  of  their  ways.  But  here  is  an 
instance  where,  owing  to  a  strong  sense  of  duty  to 
the  world,  the  barriers  have  been  taken  down,  the 
shades  have  been  drawn,  the  faces  are  seen  by  the 
firelight,  and  the  words  reach  us  through  the  open 
windows  ;  and  when  I  see  what  delicate  and  modest 
spirits  dwell  within,  I  honor  them  for  this  public 
confidence,  and  cannot  withhold  my  thanks  that 
*  Memorials  of  a  Quiet  Life.     Strahan  &  Co.,  London. 


Viii         PREFACE   TO   THE   AMERICAN   EDITION. 

this  great  and  almost  unexampled  kindness  has 
been  shown,  and  the  cherished  riches  of  a  home 
been  given  to  a  nation.  And  the  reader  who  is 
gratified  with  these  pages  may  wish  to  turn  from 
them  to  the  larger  English  work,  —  about  three 
times  the  size  of  this,  —  where  the  life  is  more  fully 
unfolded,  and  its  minuter  features  more  amply 
delineated.  I  have  tried  to  keep  the  spirit  of  the 
whole  unharmed,  and  it  has  been  a  service  requiring 
all  my  care  and  my  best  judgment  to  select  the  con- 
tents of  this  book,  and  I  cannot  rest  content  with- 
out the  hope  that  it  may  prompt  all  its  readers  to 
have  recourse  to  the  more  extended  Memorials. 

Though  the  chief  interest  of  this  book,  aside  from 
the  light  which  it  throws  upon  the  lives  of  Julius 
and  Augustus  Hare,  centres  in  the  experiences  of  a 
woman,  Maria  Leycester,  the  wife  of  Augustus,  yet 
three  other  women  take  so  leading  a  part  in  it  that 
I  cannot  quite  pass  them  by.  Catharine  Leycester, 
afterwards  the  wife  of  Edward  Stanley,  Bishop  of 
Norwich,  and  mother  of  Dean  Stanley ;  Lucy  A. 
Stanley,  sister  of  the  bishop  and  wife  of  Marcus 
Hare ;  and  Esther  Maurice,  sister  of  Frederick  D. 
Maurice,  and  wife  of  Julius  Hare,  are  in  the  closest 
relations  with  Maria  Hare,  who  outlived  them  all. 
In  the  truest  and  most  supporting  friendship  these 
women  lived,  and  this  book  is  the  brief  record  of 
their  life.     High-born  and  high-bred,  yet  without  a 


PREFACE   TO   THE   AMERICAN   EDITION.  IX 

particle  of  that  taint  which  often  rests  upon  those 
whose  passport  to  our  recognition  lies  in  their 
blood ;  devout  and  pious  through  and  through,  yet 
not  by  a  word  or  an  attitude  suggesting  that  high- 
shouldered  religion  which  is  brought  to  mind  by 
the  names  of  some  godly  women, —  these  four  sisters 
walk  through  the  spaces  of  these  records,  still, 
serene,  and  radiant.  If  I  am  enthusiastic  in  speak- 
ing of  them,  the  reader  must  bear  with  me  for  a 
little,  for  he  will  share  the  enthusiasm  when  he 
closes  the  book. 

William  L.  Gage. 
Hartford,  Sept  2,  1873. 


PREFACE    TO   THE    ENGLISH    EDITION. 


ONG  ago,  in  the  first  months  of  her  widow- 
•*-"'  hood,  these  Memorials  were  begun  by  my 
dearest  mother,  as  a  Memoir  of  her  husband,  and 
of  their  common  life  at  Alton.  Many  old  friends 
of  the  family  then  gladly  lent  their  assistance,  and 
came  forward  with  letters  and  journals  which  they 
offered  for  her  use.  But  in  her  weak  health  she 
was  unable  to  bear  the  strain  of  a  work  so  full  of 
conflicting  excitements  of  pleasure  and  pain,  and, 
after  a  long  effort,  she  was  reluctantly  compelled 
to  lay  it  aside. 

Many  years  after,  when,  upon  the  death  of  her 
sister-in-law,  Mrs.  Julius  Hare,  the  last  link  was 
broken  with  another  portion  of  her  sacred  past, 
and  when  the  remembrance  of  all  that  Hurstmon- 
ceaux  Rectory  had  been  seemed  likely  to  perish 
with  the  loving  circle  of  those  who  had  shared  its 
joys  and  sorrows,  my  mother  again  took  up  the 
pen  she  had  so  long  laid  aside,  and  wished  to 
continue  her  work  as  a  Memorial  of  the  Two 
Brothers,  Augustus    and  Julius  Hare,   who   were 


PREFACE   TO    THE   ENGLISH   EDITION.  XI 

the  authors  of  the  "  Guesses  at  Truth."  But 
age  and  infirmity  were  already  pressing  upon  her, 
and  she  soon  became  unable  to  do  more  than  ar- 
range the  materials  in  her  hands,  and  add  notes 
for  my  guidance  as  to  the  form  and  manner  in 
which  she  wished  them  to  be  applied. 

In  the  last  two  years  of  her  life  she  yielded  to 
my  earnest  wish  that  —  in  carrying  on  her  work 
if  I  survived  her — I  might  make  her  who  had 
been  the  sunshine  of  my  own  life  the  central  figure 
in  the  picture.  And  she  then  consented  to  employ 
the  short  interval  through  which  she  was  still 
spared  to  bless  us,  in  writing  down  or  dictating 
many  fragments  concerning  those  with  whom  her 
earlier  life  was  passed,  and  who  had  long  since 
joined  the  unseen  "cloud  of  witnesses." 

My  mother  had  always  tried  to  make  the  simple 
experience  of  her  own  quiet  life  as  useful  to  others 
as  it  might  be,  and  many  who  came  to  visit  her 
had  found  in  her  gentle  counsel  that  help  and 
comfort  which  many  books  and  much  learning  had 
failed  to  inspire.  Her  own  heart  was  always  so 
filled  with  thankfulness  for  the  many  mercies  and 
blessings  of  her  long  life,  so  grateful  to  the  Power 
which  had  upheld,  guided,  and  comforted  her,  that 
she  was  ever  filled  with  an  earnest  yearning  to 
lead  others  to  establish  themselves  on  the  same 
Rock ;  and  whenever  she  felt  that  the  story  of 
God's  dealings  in  her  own  life  could  lead  others 
to  a  simpler  faith  and  more  entire  trust  in  Him, 
she  never  allowed  any  self-seeking  reticence  to  in- 


Xll  PREFACE   TO   THE   ENGLISH   EDITION. 

terfere  with  this  instrumentality.  "  If  I  might  only 
be  a  bridge  upon  which  any  Christian  might  pass 
over  the  chasm  of  doubt  and  become  altogether  be- 
lieving," was  her  constant  feeling,  and  "  Oh,  that 
my  past  life,  which  has  been  so  wonderfully  blest 
by  God,  might  be  made  useful  for  his  service  and 
lead  others  to  more  entire  trust  in  Him."  And 
in  this  feeling,  when  she  was  passing  away  from 
me,  she  permitted  me,  if  I  thought  it  could  be  made 
useful  for  others,  to  uplift  the  veil  of  her  home  life, 
and  allow  others  to  look  in  upon  her  private  thoughts 
and  meditations,  and  so  endeavor  to  make  them  in 
some  degree  sharers  in  the  blessing  her  dear  life 
has  been  to  me. 

My  mother's  existence  was  so  bound  up  with 
that  of  the  immediate  circle  of  her  beloved  ones, 
especially  with  that  of  her  husband,  her  sister,  her 
brother-in-law,  Julius,  and  her  two  sisters-in-law, 
Lucy  and  Esther  Hare,  that  the  story  of  her  life 
becomes  of  necessity  that  of  their  lives  also,  and 
this  I  have  tried  to  tell  in  no  words  of  my  own, 
but  in  such  selections  from  their  common  letters 
and  journals  as  may  give  the  truest  picture  of  what 
they  were.  • 

It  has  been  rightly  observed  that  no  real  interest 
can  be  derived  from  a  memoir  which  tells  less  than 
"  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the 
truth  ; "  and  thus  —  while  in  collecting  the  frag- 
ments which  remain  from  the  lives  of  my  loved 
and  lost  ones,  I  am  chiefly  urged  by  the  desire  of 
making  others  feel  the  influence  of  the  sunshine 


Preface  to  the  English  edition.        xiii 

of  love  which  has  lighted  up  my  past  life  —  I  have 
striven  to  make  my  story  no  mere  eulogy  of  those 
of  whom  I  have  written,  but  to  give  such  traits  of 
their  living,  acting  reality  as  shall  present  a  true 
portrait  to  the  reader's  mind. 

"  They  are  all  gone  into  the  world  of  light ! 

And  I  alone  sit  lingering  here  ; 
Their  very  memory  is  fair  and  bright, 
And  my  sad  thoughts  doth  clear. 

"  I  see  them  walking  in  an  air  of  glory, 

Whose  light  doth  trample  on  my  days ; 
My  days  which  are  at  best  but  dull  and  hoary, 
Mere  glimmerings  and  decays. 

"  O  holy  hope,  and  high  humility, 

High  as  the  heavens  above  J 
These  are  your  walks,  and  you  have  show'd  them  me 
To  kindle  my  cold  love." 

A.  J.  C.  Hare. 

HOLMHURST,  AugUSt,    1872. 


I. 


THE  HARES  OF  HURSTMONCEAUX. 

"The  true  Past  departs  not,  nothing  that  was  worthy  in 
the  Past  departs ;  no  Truth  or  Goodness  realized  by  man 
ever  dies,  or  can  die ;  but  all  is  still  here,  and,  recognized 
or  not,  lives  and  works  through  endless  changes."  —  Car- 
LYLE's  Essays. 

ESS  than  four  miles  from"  the  Sussex  coast, 
-*- *  at  the  point  where  the  huge  remains  of  the 
Roman  Anderida  break  the  otherwise  monotonous 
sea-line,  but  divided  from  the  sea  by  the  flat  marsh 
meadow-lands  known  as  Pevensey  Level,  stand  the 
ruins  of  Hurstmonceaux  Castle.  Once,  before  the 
Level  was  reclaimed,  the  sea  itself  must  have  rolled 
in  almost  as  far  as  the  ancient  manor-house  which 
preceded  the  castle  upon  the  same  site ;  and  the 
plain  is  still  wholly  uninhabited,  except  by  one  or 
two  farmers,  who  watch  over  the  immense  herds  of 
cattle  which  pasture  there,  and  who  live  in  small 
houses  amid  solitary  tufts  of  trees,  on  slight  rising- 
grounds,  which  were  once  islands,  and  whose  names 
still  show  their  origin,  in  the  ancient  termination 
of  ey,  or  island,  as  in  Pevensey,  Horsey,  Langney. 
From  the  churchyard  above  the  castle,  the  view  is 
very  strange,  looking  down  upon  the  green,  pathless 
flat,  into  the  confines  of  which  no  one  ever  wanders 

I  A 


2  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

except  the  cowherds,  or  those  who  cross  to  Peven- 
sey  by  the  distant  highroad.  The  church  and  castle 
are  literally  the  last  buildings  on  the  edge  of  a 
desert. 

The  castle  is  still  most  grand  and  stately  in  its 
premature  decay ;  nothing  can  be  more  picturesque 
than  its  huge  front  of  red  brick,  grown  gray  here 
and  there  with  lichens  and  weather-stains,  than  its 
arched  gateway  and  boldly  projecting  machicola- 
tions, or  the  flowing  folds  of  ivy  with  which  it  is 
overhung.  Though  only  built  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
VI.,  it  is  said  to  have  been  the  earliest  large  brick 
building  in  England,  after  the  time  of  Richard  II., 
when  De  la  Pole's  house  was  built  of  brick  at  King- 
ston-on-Hull ;  and  it  is  considered  a  most  valuable 
specimen  of  the  transition  of  domestic  building  from 
a  fortress  to  a  manor-house.  The  front  is  pierced 
with  loop-holes  for  crossbows,  and  oeillets  for  the 
discharge  of  matchlock  guns,  which  are  relics  of 
the  former  intention,  while  the  large  windows  of 
the  dwelling-rooms,  and  more  especially  the  noble 
oriel  known  as  "  the  Ladies'  Bower,"  are  witnesses 
to  the  latter.  Bishop  Littleton,*  writing  in  1757, 
states  his  opinion  that  Hurstmonceaux  was  at  that 
time  the  largest  inhabited  house  in  England  belong- 
ing to  any  subject,  its  rival,  Audley  End,  having 
been  then  partially  destroyed. 

Unfortunately  the  castle  is  built  in  a  damp 
hollow,  and,  as    Horace  Walpole   observes,!   "for 

*  Archaeologia,  vol.  ii.  p.  147. 

t  Walpole's  Letters,  edit.  1837,  vol.  i.  p.  176. 


THE   HARES    OF    HURSTMONCEAUX.  3 

convenience  of  water  to  the  moat,  it  sees  nothing 
at  all."  All  the  present  surroundings  of  the  build- 
ing are  in  melancholy  harmony  with  its  condition. 

The  name  Hurstmonceaux  is  a  combination  of 
the  Saxon  word  "  hurst,"  meaning  a  wood,  and 
"  Monceaux,"  the  title  of  one  of  its  lords,  who  came 
over  with  the  Conqueror.*  The  family  of  Mon- 
ceaux built  the  early  manor-house,  which  existed 
long  before  the  castle,  and  was  coeval  with  the 
foundation  of  the  church  on  the  adjoining  hill. 

One  of  the  first  interests  at  Hurstmonceaux  had 
been  found  in  the  preparation  of  the  sunniest  and 
pleasantest  room  in  the  house  for  the  reception  of 
Lady  Jones  during  her  long  annual  visit  —  a  room 
which  is  called  "  Lady  Jones's  Chamber "  to  this 
day.  Thither  she  came  for  three  or  four  months 
every  summer,  bringing  the  little  Augustus  to  his 
brothers,  when  they  used  to  play  in  the  gardens  of 
the  "  Place,"  or  ramble  about  in  the  castle  ruins  or 
that  old  deer-park.  Even  as  a  child  Augustus  was 
of  a  much  gentler  disposition  than  his  brothers,  and 
more  unselfish.  If  any  thing  was  given  to  him,  his 
only  pleasure  in  possession  seemed  to  be  that  he 
had  it  to  give  to  some  one  else,  and  "  his  conversa- 
tion was  not  like  a  child's,  —  he  would  admire  the 
works  of  God  in  every  tree  and  weed."  —  "  On  one 
occasion,  when  very  little,  he  told  his  aunt  a  lie.  It 
happened  on  a  day  when  Lord  Spencer  and  Lord 
Teignmouth  were  coming  to  dine  with  her ;  she 
had  intended  that  Augustus  should  dine  with  them, 

*  Sussex  Archseol.,  vol.  iv.  p.  128. 


4  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

and  he  was  greatly  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  it, 
but  in  consequence  of  what  he  had  done,  she  ordered 
him  to  stay  in  his  room  and  have  nothing  but  bread 
and  water.  His  nurse,  who  was  greatly  devoted  to 
him,  was  not  able  to  go  to  him  till  night,  when  she 
took  him  some  strawberries,  the  first  of  the  year, 
with  which  at  first  he  was  much  pleased,  but  then 
asked  if  his  aunt  had  sent  them,  and  on  being  told 
'  no,'  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to  touch  them,  say- 
ing that  she  had  thought  him  too  wicked  to  have 
any  thing  that  was  good." — "  Once  when  he  was 
playing  with  a  little  boy,  the  son  of  the  Duchess  of 
Devonshire,  and  they  could  not  keep  a  little  sledge, 
with  tin  soldiers  in  it,  steady,  he  went  and  fetched 
a  silver  crucifix  and  beads  given  to  him  by  his  Italian 
nurse,  and  put  it  into  the  sledge,  saying,  4  Here  is 
something  that  will  manage  this  and  every  thing  else 
in  the  world.'  " — "  After  a  long  illness,  he  expressed 
his  gratitude  and  thanks  in  such  a  manner  to  those 
who  had  been  kind  to  him,  that  he  was  more  loved 
than  ever."  * 

Around  Hurstmonceaux  Place  the  country,  which 
is  so  bare  near  the  castle,  becomes  luxuriantly  rich 
and  wooded.  The  house  is  large,  forming  a  massy 
square  with  projecting  semi-circular  bows  at  the 
Gorners,  the  appearance  of  which  (due  to  Wyatt) 
certainly  produces  a  very  ugly  effect  outside,  but  is 
exceedingly  comfortable  within.  Mr.  Wilberforce, 
who  rented  it  in   1810,  thus  describes  it:  — 

*  These  anecdotes  were  told  forty  years  after  by  Lady  Jones's 
maid  Hickman,  then  Mrs.  Parker. 


THE  HARES   OF  HURSTMONCEAUX.  5 

"  I  am  in  a  comer  of  Sussex,  in  an  excellent  house, 
and  a  place  almost  as  pretty  as  the  neighborhood  of 
the  sea  ever  is.  There  is  a  fine  old  castle  here,  built  in 
Henry  VI.'s  time,  but  in  complete  preservation  till 
some  twenty  years  ago,  and,  though  this  is  a  very  good 
private  gentleman's  habitation,  yet  when  one  sets  it 
against  a  complete  castle,  one  side  of  which  was  two 
hundred  feet  long,  and  which  was  in  the  complete  cos- 
tume of  the  age  in  which  it  was  reared,  it  dwindles  into 
as  much  insignificance  as  one  of  the  armed  knights  of 
the  middle  ages,  fully  accoutred,  who  should  be  sud- 
denly transported  into  the  curtailed  dimensions  of  one 
of  the  box-lobby  lounges  of  the  opera,  or  even  one  of 
the  cropped  and  docked  troopers  of  one  of  our  modern 
regiments. 

"  The  castle  is  in  the  park ;  but,  horrendum  dictu  /  it 
was  pulled  down,  and  the  bare  walls  and  ivy-mantled 
towers  alone  left  standing ;  the  materials  being  applied 
to  the  construction  of  a  new  house,  which,  on  the  whole, 
cost  twice  as  much,  I  understand,  as  it  would  have  taken 
to  make  the  castle  habitable,  for  it  had  fallen  a  little 
into  arrears.  I  don't  know,  however,  that  we  who  in- 
habit the  new  mansion  may  not  have  made  a  good 
exchange,  by  gaining  in  comfort  what  is  lost  in  mag- 
nificence ;  for  the  old  building  was  of  such  a  prodigious 
extent,  that  it  would  have  required  the  contents  of 
almost  a  whole  colliery  to  keep  it  warm ;  and  I  think 
few  things  more  wretched  (of  the  kind,  I  mean)  than 
living  in  a  house  which  it  is  beyond  the  powers  of  the 
fortune  to  keep  in  order ;  like  a  great  body  with  a  lan- 
guid circulation,  all  is  cold  and  comfortless,"  * 

*  Letter  to  Lord  Muncaster.  See  Wilberforce's  "Life  and 
Correspondence,"  vol.  iii.  pp.  464,  466.     Lond., 


II. 


AUGUSTUS  AND  JULIUS  HARE. 

"  The  great  secret  of  spiritual  perfection  is  expressed  in 
the  words  of  St.  Ignatius  Loyola,  'Hoc  vult  Deus.'  God 
wishes  me  to  stand  in  this  post,  to  fulfil  this  duty,  to  suffer 
this  disease,  to  be  afflicted  with  this  calamity,  this  contempt, 
this  vexation.  God  wishes  this,  whatever  the  world  and 
self-love  may  dictate,  hoc  vult  Deus.  His  will  is  my 
law."  — Broadstone  of  Honor. 

"  TONOGRAPHIES  are  wholesome  and  nourish- 
-*-^  ing  reading  in  proportion  as  they  approach  the 
character  of  autobiography,  when  they  are  written 
by  those  who  loved  or  were  familiar  with  their 
subjects,  —  who  had  an  eye  for  the  tokens  of  in- 
dividual character,  and  could  pick  up  the  words  as 
they  dropped  from  loving  lips."  Thus,  in  middle 
life,  wrote  Julius  Hare,  the  younger  of  the  two 
authors  of  the  "  Guesses  at  Truth,"  and  thus,  in 
following  the  footprints  of  his  life  and  that  of  his 
brother  Augustus,  the  truest  picture  is  that  which 
can  be  drawn  from  their  own  letters  or  thoughts, 
from  the  recollection  of  their  surviving  relations 
and  friends,  or  from  the  reminiscences  of  the  poor 
who  loved  them  in  solitary  Little  Alton  amid  the 
Wiltshire  Downs,  or  among  the  leafy  lanes  of 
Hurstmonceaux. 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS  HARE.  7 

The  chief  influence  in  the  youth  of  both  brothers 
was  that  of  their  aunt,  Lady  Jones,*  whose  house 
was  their  home,  and  who  generously  made  herself 
responsible  for  their  education.  Unlike  their  own 
mother,  of  whose  gentle  loving-kindness  her  four 
sons  retained  an  equal  recollection,  Lady  Jones 
chiefly  showed  her  affection  for  her  nephews  by  the 
severity  with  which  she  corrected  their  faults,  while 
for  herself  she  exacted  respect  rather  than  love,  and 
had  no  sympathy  with  any  demonstration  of  affec- 
tion. Her  nephews,  though  devoted  to  her  from 
motives  of  gratitude,  never  ventured  to  be  familiar 
with  her,  and  Augustus  especially  suffered  in  after 
life  from  the  want  of  mutual  confidence  which  was 
thus  engendered.  In  society  Lady  Jones  could  be 
exceedingly  pleasant  and  agreeable.  Miss  Berry, 
who  knew  her  well,  always  spoke  of  her  as  "  that 
most  perfect  gentlewoman."  She  was  very  quick 
in  her  movements,  old-fashioned  and  peculiar  in 
dress,  short  in  person,  and  she  had  sharp,  pierc- 
ing eyes. 

Lady  Jones  sent  Augustus  Hare  to  Winchester 
as  a  Commoner  at  the  beginning  of  the  short  half- 
year,  after  the  summer  holidays  of  1804:  he  was 
placed  at  once  in  the  middle  division  of  the  Fifth 
Form.  Archdeacon  Randall,  who  followed  him 
to  Winchester  in  October  of  the  same  year,  thus 
describes  his  personal  appearance  at  that  time : 
"  Hare  was  then,  as  afterwards,  tall,  thin,  and  del- 
icate-looking, and  his  dress  peculiar,  varying  from 

*  Widow  of  Sir  William  Jones,  the  distinguished  Orientalist. 


8  RECORDS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

that  of  other  boys,  —  much  such  as  might  have 
been  supposed  to  have  had  its  cut  and  color  se- 
lected by  a  lady  who,  though  not  an  old  maid,  was 
a  widow,  and  not  much  conversant  with  the  habili- 
ments and  habits  of  boys  in  general.  He  was, 
however,  even  then  an  object  of  general  interest 
in  the  school." 

In  1806  Julius  had  been  sent  to  the  Charter- 
house (then  under  the  guidance  of  Dr.  Raine), 
where  he  soon  made  rapid  progress.  Among 
his  companions  there,  were  Thirlwall  and  Grote, 
the  future  historians  of  Greece  ;  Waddingtpn,  af- 
terwards Dean  of  Durham  ;  Sir  William  Norris, 
and  Sir  Henry  Havelock.  The  two  last  especially 
were  united  with  Julius  Hare  in  a  school  friendship 
which  lasted  through  life.  Havelock  was  always 
called  Phloss  by  the  others,  a  name  intended  as 
short  for  philosopher.  During  his  time  at  the 
Charter-house,  Julius  received  constant  extra  as- 
sistance in  his  studies  from  Francis,  his  "  kindest 
brother,"  as  he  always  called  him,  to  whom  he  sent 
his  verses  for  inspection  before  they  were  shown 
up.  Francis  always  loved  Julius  the  best  of  his 
brothers,  though  the  whole  four  were  united 
almost  to  a  proverb,  — "  The  most  brotherly  of 
brothers,"   Landor  used  to  call  them. 

When  Augustus  Hare  went  to  reside  at  New 
College  in  the  Michaelmas  term  of  18 10,  he  found 
himself  surrounded  by  a  large  circle  of  his  Win- 
chester friends.  Randall  had  gone  up  to  Trinity, 
Oxford,  the  year  before,  but  Blackstone  and  Stow 


AUGUSTUS    AND  JULIUS    HARE.  9 

were  with  him  at  New  College,  and  many  others, 
with  whom  he  was  less  intimate.  Hull  of  Brase- 
nose  and  Arnold  of  Corpus  also  belonged  to  the 
closest  circle  of  his  friends.  "  Friendship,"  he 
wrote  in  one  of  his  note  books  of  this  time,  "is 
love  without  the  veil  and  the  flowers." 

The  interest  which  Augustus  Hare  felt  in  poli- 
tics increased  during  his  Oxford  life,  and,  in  Octo- 
ber, 18 1 3,  he  gave  evidence  of  the  sagacity  and 
clear-sightedness  with  which  he  had  followed  Na- 
poleon in  his  German  campaigns,  by  a  practical 
joke  which  he  played  upon  the  University,  and 
which  rendered  him  remarkable  for  years  after- 
wards, in  societies  where  his  better  and  worthier 
talents  would  have  passed  unnoticed.  On  return- 
ing one  evening  from  a  meeting  of  the  Attic 
Society  he  wrote  an  account  of  a  great  battle, 
and  a  victory  gained  over  the  Crown  Prince  near 
the  imaginary  village  of  Altendorn,  in  imitation  of 
a  bulletin  from  Napoleon.  This  arrived  at  Oxford 
the  next  day  by  post,  enclosed  in  a  cover,  to  Martin 
Stow,  Fellow  of  New  College,  and  professing  to 
come  from  his  father's  office  in  London,  of  which 
Mr.  Eve  (in  whose  name  the  letter  was  written) 
was  a  clerk.  Mr.  Eve's  letter  began  by  some  state- 
ments about  money  matters,  and  proceeded,  "  I  am 
sorry  to  say  that  an  account  of  a  great  victory  over 
the  Crown  Prince  by  Bonaparte  has  just  reached 
the  office,  which,  as  it  has  arrived  too  late  for  in- 
sertion in  the  evening  papers,  I  take  the  liberty  of 
copying  for  you.  There  are  two  dispatches  to  the 
Empress  ;   the  first,  dated  the  12th,  merely   gives 


I.O  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

an  account  of  what  we  heard  before,  that  Bona- 
parte, having  left  Dresden,  detached  a  large  army 
towards  Berlin  and  then  retreated  on  Duben.  It 
concludes  thus  :  '  If  the  allies  follow  us,  a  great 
battle  may  be  hourly  expected.'  The  second  is  as 
follows,  dated  the  21st,  head-quarters  at  Duben." 
.  .  .  Then  came  a  long  account  of  the  supposititious 
battle,  which  concluded  :  "Thus  has  the  justice  of 
Providence,  and  the  brilliant  dispositions  of  the 
Emperor,  in  a  moment  dissipated  those  numerous 
battalions  that  threatened  to  carry  us  across  the 
Rhine  and  violate  the  integrity  of  the  Empire. 
An  impartial  posterity  will  rank  the  Battle  of  Al- 
tendorn  among  the  days  of  Austerlitz,  Jena,  and 
Friedland.  The  head-quarters  will  to-morrow  be 
removed  to  Delitsche.  The  Emperor,  notwith- 
standing his  fatigues,  continues  to  enjoy  the  best 
health." 

So  similar  was  the  style  to  that  of  the  Usual 
bulletins,  so  accurate  the  geographical  details,  and 
so  probable  the  movements  described,  that  all  the 
members  of  the  University  who  read  the  fictitious 
dispatch  were  completely  taken  in  for  more  than  a 
day  and  a  half,  till  the  coaches  of  Monday  bringing 
down  the  morning  papers  dispelled  the  illusion. 
Even  then,  and  long  afterwards,  those  who  had 
eagerly  studied  the  fictitious  dispatch,  and  the 
geography  of  the  imaginary  movements,  found  it 
difficult  to  separate  the  •  story  of  the  victory  at 
Altendorn  from  that  of  the  real  history  of  the 
campaign.* 

*  Contributed  by  the  Rev.  F.  Blackstone. 


AUGUSTUS    AND   JULIUS   HARE.  II 

Another  practical  joke  which  Augustus  Hare 
assisted  in  playing  upon  the  University  was  at  the 
time  when  Madame  de  Stael  was  at  the  height  of 
her  celebrity.  It  was  announced  "that  she  was  in 
England,  and  was  about  to  visit  Oxford,  where  she 
had  an  undergraduate  friend.  For  a  few  weeks  the 
undergraduate  who  was  to  be  so  highly  honored 
became  an  object  of  universal  interest.  At  length 
it  was  noised  abroad  that  the  great  lady  had  ar- 
rived, and  under  the  extraordinary  circumstances, 
and  to  meet  so  illustrious  a  guest,  the  undergrad- 
uate ventured  to  invite  several  of  the  heads  of 
houses,  and  even  the  Vice-Chancellor  himself,  to 
meet  her  at  breakfast.  The  party  assembled, 
Madame  de  Stael  was  there,  and  so  charmed  every- 
body by  her  grace,  wit,  and  brilliancy,  that  they 
all  went  away  feeling  that  they  had  found  her 
even  more  than  they  anticipated.  It  was  not  till 
many  weeks  after  that  it  was  discovered  that  she 
had  never  been  in  Oxford  at  all,  and  that  she  had 
been  represented  by  a  clever  undergraduate,  who 
had  resided  for  many  years  in  France !  * 

It  was  during  the  summer  of .  1813  that  the  re- 
pugnance which  Augustus  had  always  felt  for  taking 
orders  became  so  strong  that  he  ventured  to  risk 
the  anger  of  Lady  Jones  by  its  avowal.  Knowing 
how  strongly  her  wishes  were  fixed  upon  this  sub- 
ject, both  from  a  real  desire  for  his  future  useful- 
ness in  the  Church,  and  from  the  natural  wish  that 
he  should    succeed   to   the   rich  family   living  of 

*  Rev.  F.  Blackstone's  "Reminiscences." 


12  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

Hurstmonceaux,  he  greatly  dreaded  the  effect 
which  his  decision  would  have  upon  her.  During 
a  visit  which  he  paid  in  the  summer  to  his  cousins 
the  Hebers,*  he  consulted  them  as  to  how  he  could 
best  break  the  disappointment  to  his  aunt,  and  the 
result  was  that  Reginald  Heber  himself  undertook 
to  write  to  Lady  Jones  upon  the  subject. 

In  1817  Lady  Jones  gave  Augustus  X150  to 
spend  in  travelling  on  the  Continent,  and  he  left 
England  with  his  brother  Francis  on  the  29th  of 
July.  The  following  extracts  are  from  his  foreign 
letters  :  — 
Augustus  to  Julius  Hare. 

"August,  18 1 7.  —  Coleridge  ought  to  have  written  a 
poem  on  the  falls  of  Schaffhausen,  as  a  companion  for 
his  hymn  on  Mont  Blanc." 

"  Oct.  27.  — I  am  quite  delighted  with  the  people  of 
Bologna.  They  all  seemed  so  glad  to  see  my  brother 
again.  Mezzofanti  especially,  who  was  formerly  one  of 
his  thousand  and  one  instructors,  and  who  is  now  cele- 
brated as  the  greatest  linguist  in  the  world,  being  perfect 
master  of  thirty  languages,  besides  being  more  or  less 
acquainted  with  twenty  others,  could  hardly  satisfy  him- 
self with  looking  at  his  old  pupil,  who,  he  had  heard  from 
Fazakerley,  had  turned  out  a  great  Grecian.  Then  he 
alluded,  with  looks  of  gratitude,  to  my  brother's  great 
kindness  to  him  in  a  dangerous  illness,  then  talked  to 
me  a  little,  then  began  rejoicing  over  Francis  and  his 
Greek  again." 

*  Reginald  Heber  had  married  (April,  1809)  Amelia  Shipley, 
youngest  daughter  of  the  Dean  of  St.  Asaph. 


AUGUSTUS    AND   JULIUS    HARE.  13 

"  People  say  that  St.  Peter's  looks  larger  every  time 
they  see  it.  It  does  more.  It  seems  to  grow  larger 
while  the  eye  is  fixed  on  it,  even  from  the  very  doors ; 
and  then  expands,  as  you  go  forward,  almost  like  our 
idea  of  God.  .  .  .  On  entering  St.  Peter's  my  first  im- 
pulse was  to  throw  myself  on  my  knees  ;  and  but  for  the 
fear  of  being  observed  by  my  companions,  I  must  have 
bowed  my  face  to  the  ground  and  kissed  the  pavement. 
I  moved  slowly  up  the  nave,  oppressed  by  my  own  little- 
ness ;  and  when  at  last  I  reached  the  brazen  canopy,  and 
my  spirit  sank  within  me  beneath  the  sublimity  of  the 
dome,  I  felt  that,  as  the  ancient  Romans  could  not  con- 
demn Manlius  within  sight  of  the  Capitol,  so  it  would  be 
impossible  for  an  Italian  of  the  present  day  to  renounce 
popery  under  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's." 

Lady  Jones  continued  to  press  upon  Augustus 
Hare  her  desire  of  his  taking  orders.  On  May  4t 
18 1 8,  he  wrote  to  her  from  New  College  :  — 

"  I  ought  to  be  one  of  the  happiest  persons  in  exist- 
ence :  so  many  delights  are  crowding  round  me  in  all 
shapes  and  sizes.  The  weather,  with  all  its  spring 
accompaniments  of  air,  sunshine,  verdure,  and  singing 
birds,  has  been  here  so  perfect  as  to  make  Blackstone 
cry  out  .a  hundred  times  a  day  that  for  such  days  he 
believes  there  is  no  place  like  England.  Then  we  have 
had  Reginald  Heber  here  full  of  spirits  at  the  idea  of 
becoming  a  father.  He  came  to  preach,  and  did  give  us 
two  such  sermons  —  one  on  '  To  die  is  gain,'  showing  that 
to  make  this  possible  required  an  Atonement,  the  other 
upon  the  choice  of  principled  friends  —  that,  I  believe, 
if  he  were  to  settle  here  and  become  a  regular  preacher, 
he  would  bring  churchgoing,  and  perhaps  religion  itself, 


14  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

into  practice.  .  .  .  And  now  after  all  these  pleasant  sub- 
jects to  a  less  agreeable  one.  I  am  afraid  you  are  quite 
right  in  suspecting  that  Trinity  Sunday  and  its  ap- 
proach have  made  much  less  impression  on  me  than 
they  ought.  My  southern  expedition  was  certainly  of 
use  to  me  in  opening  my  eyes  and  ears  to  sights  and 
sounds  in  nature.  But  alas  !  this  good  is  just  at  present 
counterbalanced  by  the  indisposition  it  has  produced  in 
me  to  give  up  my  time  and  thoughts  to  the  abstruse  study 
of  my  profession.  That  it  is  my  profession  I  know  well, 
and  that  it  is  under  my  circumstances  of  situation  the 
best  employment  to  which  I  can  betake  myself.  But 
an  employment  in  which  one  engages  merely  from  con- 
siderations of  prudence  and  duty,  without  feeling  an  in- 
terest in  the  occupations  which  it  involves,  is  somewhat 
irksome,  and  one  does  not  without  an  effort  succeed  in 
bringing  the  mind  to  dwell  on  it.  I  fear  all  this  would 
not  be  pleasing  to  you,  and  I  feel  that  I  have  nothing  to 
urge  that  can  make  it  so  ;  the  cause,  however,  I  hope, 
will  ere  long  be  over,  and  then  I  trust  all  things  will  go 
on  smoothly  as  ever." 

Yet  the  high  estimation  in  which  Augustus 
Hare  already  held  the  clerical  office  may  be  seen 
from  the  following,  written  to  his  friend  Frederick 
Blackstone,  upon  his  ordination  :  — 

11  Dec.  18,  1818.  —  I  am  not  sorry  for  a  necessity  for 
writing,  as  it  ensures  the  expression  of  my  deep  sympathy 
in  the  sacred  character  which  you  are  on  the  point  of 
assuming.  You  are  about  to  become  a  teacher  in  our 
new  Israel ;  and  the  titles  of  '  watchman '  and  '  father 
of  souls,'  high  as  they  are,  will  from  henceforth  be  yours. 
Happy !  thrice  happy !  the  person  by  whom  their  full 


AUGUSTUS    AND  JULIUS    HARE.  1 5 

dignity  is  felt.  What  a  freedom  from  the  thralls  of  the 
world  and  the  flesh, —  what  a  piercing  insight  into  the 
true  nature  of  things ;  how  large  a  share  of  the  wisdom 
that  is  from  above  must  be  possessed  by  such  a  man  ! 
To  me  it  is  a  source  of  much  real  joy,  that  you,  my  much- 
tried  friend,  who  are  entering  into  Christ's  ministry, 
are  blest,  I  will  not  say  with  such  a  perfect  sense  of  its 
glories  as  I  have  been  figuring  to  myself,  but  certainly 
with  the  fittest  dispositions  for  in  time  arriving  at  it. 
With  perhaps  not  fewer  surface  faults  than  many  of  my 
acquaintance,  I  can  yet  with  truth  say,  that  in  sincere 
straightforward  singleness  of  heart,  I  believe  it  would 
be  difficult  to  go  beyond  you.  .  .  .  Certainly  the  Church 
is  the  sphere  for  you.  In  the  service  of  a  Creator  and 
Redeemer,  your  zeal  will  enjoy  the  amplest  and  fairest 
scope  ;  while  in  the  spirituality  of  your  future  objects, 
whatever  of  earth  still  clings  around  you  must  in  time 
find  a  corrective.  Only  in  striving  to  be  perfect  do  not 
be  betrayed  into  timidity.  Our  scrupulousness,  taken  in 
its  extreme,  consists  neither  with  Christianity  nor  with 
faith,  for  it  degrades  the  Deity  into  a  taskmaster.  Plans 
of  life  and  the  relations  of  duty  must  be  once  examined, 
and  afterwards  acted  on.  'Quod  putavi,  putavi,'  was 
Latimer's  rule  at  the  stake,  and  must  to  a  certain  degree 
be  the  principle  of  all  who  are  not  willing  to  spend  life 
in  questioning. 

"And  now  Adieu  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  word. 
And  may  He,  the  Being,  to  whom  you  are  thus  commit- 
ted, the  Father  and  Friend  of  all,  instruct  you  in  the 
truth,  fill  you  with  the  spirit,  confirm  you  in  love, 
strengthen  you  in  goodness,  and  make  you  the  minister 
of  life,  even  of  life  eternal,  to  all  those  over  whom  you 
may  be  set,  in  the  name  and  through  the  authority  of  the 
Lord  Jesus.     Amen." 


l6  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

When  Julius  Hare  went  up  to  Trinity,  he  had 
already  earned  a  reputation  both  as  a  scholar  and 
mathematician.  Old  Charter-house  companions 
brought  with  them  startling  stories  of  his  school 
prowess,  and  his  shelves  were  conspicuously  laden 
with  his  school  prizes.  Thus  he  was  eagerly  wel- 
comed by  all  the  best  set  of  men  in  his  college, — 
all  those  whose  pursuit  and  aim  was  the  same  as 
his  own.  Sedgewick,  already  a  college  tutor,  made 
a  friend  of  the  freshman ;  Starr,  Whewell,  Wors- 
ley,  and  Kenelm  Digby  were  his  intimate  compan- 
ions —  the  recipients  of  his  "  Guesses  at  Truth  "  — 
the  witnesses  of  his  enthusiastic  championship  or 
furious  denunciations,  according  as  he  was  biassed 
by  the  feelings  of  the  moment  ;  for  then,  as  after- 
wards, Julius  never  loved  or  hated  by  halves.  It 
was  perhaps  this  very  openness  and  demonstrative- 
ness  of  character  which  rendered  him  so  peculiarly 
interesting  to  his  acquaintances,  and  which  made 
it  impossible  for  him  to  pass  unnoticed.  He  was 
often  loved,  frequently  detested,  but  never  ignored. 
The  knowledge  of  English  literature  which  he 
brought  with  him  to  Cambridge  was  extraordi- 
nary, but  his  knowledge  of  German  literature  was 
hitherto  unknown  in  an  English  undergraduate. 
This  had  been  partly  the  result  of  his  residence 
as  a  child  with  his  dying  mother  at  Weimar.  The 
interest  which  was  then  aroused  by  the  conversa- 
tion of  Goethe  and  Schiller,  of  the  good  Duchess 
of  Weimar,  and  of  other  illustrious  persons  who 
were  wont  to  meet  in  the  honored  sick-chamber, 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS   HARE.  If 

had  never  passed  away.  Schiller  died  while  he 
was  at  Weimar,  and  his  childish  ambition  and  en- 
thusiasm were  aroused  by  seeing  this  great  loss 
received  as  a  national  calamity  by  his  mourning 
fellow-countrymen.  The  great  poets  and  philoso- 
phers of  Germany  were  thus  no  mere  names  to  him, 
but  at  ten  years  old  they  were  grand  living  realities, 
and  their  tales  were  the  story-books,  their  poems 
the  inspiration,  of  his  childhood.  When  he  returned 
to  England,  his  father's  and  his  brothers'  libraries 
kept  open  for  him  a  vast  field  of  discovery  in  the 
wealth  of  German  authors,  which  few  boys  would 
have  access  to,  and  indeed  few  would  appreciate. 
Lady  Jones  in  vain  remonstrated  against  what  she 
considered  as  the  dangers  which  might  result  from 
such  license  in  reading  for  one  so  young,  but  Mr. 
Hare-Naylor  was  accustomed  to  the  freedom  of 
opinion  which  the  mother  of  his  four  sons  had 
always  encouraged,  and  desired  that  all  possible 
sources  of  information  might  be  left  open  to  his 
children. 

When  Julius  went  up  to  Cambridge,  he  gave 
himself  up  with  passionate  delight  to  his  classical 
studies.  Of  mathematics  he  would  now  learn  no 
more  than  was  necessary,  though,  according  to  the 
system  which  then  prevailed  in  the  University,  he 
thus,  considerably  to  his  father's  annoyance,  shut 
himself  out  from  competing  for  the  chancellor's 
medal.  In  his  classical  studies  he  was  privately 
assisted  by  his  brother  Francis,  who  had  boundless 
faith  in  the  talents  of  Julius,  and  was  never  weary 


1 8  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

of  writing  essays  for  his  assistance  and  reference. 
His  success  in  college  examinations  led  to  his  elec- 
tion to  a  Trinity  Fellowship  in  October,  1818. 

The  following  winter  was  spent  by  Julius  Hare 
in  Italy  with  his  brother  Francis,  who  had  re- 
mained in  the  south  since  Augustus  left  him  in 
the  preceding  spring.  From  this  time  dates  his 
great  love  and  veneration  for  Raphael. 

"  Where  to  find  a  parallel  for  Raphael  in  the  modern 
world  I  know  not.  Sophocles,  among  poets,  most  resem- 
bles him.  In  knowledge  of  the  diversities  of  human 
character,  he  comes  nearer  than  any  other  painter  to 
him,  who  is  unapproached  and  unapproachable,  Shakes- 
peare ;  and  yet  two  worlds,  that  of  Honor  and  that  of 
Passion,  separate  them.  In  exquisiteness  of  art,  Goethe 
might  be  compared  to  him.  But  neither  he  nor  Shakes- 
peare has  Raphael's  deep  Christian  feeling.  But  then 
there  is  such  a  peculiar  glow  and  flush  of  beauty  in  his 
works  :  whithersoever  he  comes,  he  sheds  beauty  from  his 
wings.  Why  did  he  die  so  early?  Because  morning 
cannot  last  till  noon,  nor  spring  through  summer."  # 

"  In  intellectual  as  in  active  life,  the  still  small  voice 
wherein  speaks  the  true  genius,  *  that  peculiar  sway  of 
nature,  which  (as  Milton  saith)  also  is  God's  working,' 
will  usually  be  preceded  by  the  strong  wind  and  the  earth- 
quake and  the  fire,  which  may  rend  the  mountain  and 
break  the  rocks  in  pieces,  but  in  which  there  is  nothing 
that  abideth.  The  poet  will  at  first  try  force  and  en- 
deavor to  take  Beauty  by  storm  j  but  if  he  would  succeed, 
he  must  assure  himself  that  she  consents  not  to  be  won 
until  she  has  been  wooed  by  duteous  and  loyal  service. 

*  Guesses  at  Truth.     First  Series. 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS    HARE.  IQ 

This  appears  a  simple  and  easy  lesson ;  yet  few  among 
the  sons  of  men  have  duly  apprehended  it,  except  tardily 
on  compulsion.  There  may  indeed  have  been  others, 
even  in  modern  times,  who  have  felt  and  known  these 
truths  instinctively  from  their  childhood  upwards,  but 
I  cannot  name  any  besides  Raphael.  Of  him  it  may 
truly  be  said  that  Beauty  was  his  nurse,  that  he  had  sucked 
at  her  breast,  and  been  dandled  in  her  arms,  and  been 
covered  with  her  kisses,  until  all  her  features  were  indel- 
ibly written  on  his  mind,  and  her  image  became  amalga- 
mated, and,  as  it  were,  one  with  its  essence.  From  his 
earliest  sketch  unto  his  last  great  work,  whatever  came 
from  his  pencil  appears,  so  to  say,  to  have  been  steeped 
in  beauty:  in  his  imagination,  as  in  the  bright  atmos- 
phere of  a  summer  day,  every  object  was  arrayed  in  a 
loveliness  at  once  its  own  and  his  :  for  all  he  gives  is  so 
genuine  and  appropriate,  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish 
what  is  native  from  what  is  adventitious.  But  Raphael 
had  the  good  fortune  to  be  born  earlier  in  the  world's 
great  year,  when  the  sun  might  safely  rise  without  a 
cloud:  in  these  autumnal  times  one  can  hardly  hope 
for  a  fine  day,  unless  it  be  ushered  in  by  a  misty 
morning."  * 

But,  together  with  the  growth  of  his  love  for 
Raphael,  Julius  also  became  converted  to  a  belief 
in  the  general  superiority  of  sculpture  over  paint- 
ing. Soon  afterwards  Augustus,  writing  to  Fred- 
erick Blackstone,  says  :  — 

"  Julius,  who  was  nearly  as  sceptical  as  yourself  about 
sculpture, y<?//  while  he  was  standing  among  the  Townley 
marbles  that  there  was  no  comparison.     The  effect  of 

*  Guesses  at  Truth.     Second  Series. 


20  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  sculpture  was  so  much  stronger  than  that  which  had 
been  produced  by  the  Raphaels,  Leonardos,  and  Guidos, 
which  had  been  exhibited.  He  was  so  far  hurried  away 
by  his  enthusiasm  as  to  kiss  an  arm  of  one  of  the  female 
figures,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  the  unimaginative 
beholders,  who,  perhaps,  would  not  one  of  them  have 
given  a  half-penny  to  kiss  the  finest  arm  in  the 
world.  '  Mais  cela  tient  au  morale,  ou  plutot  a  la  Philo- 
sophic' " 

During  these  years  of  youth  also  grew  in  the 
heart  of  Julius  that  great  love  with  which  he 
always  afterwards  regarded  "  the  honored  name  of 
William  Wordsworth,"  he  being  one  of  the  first  of 
a  circle  of  young  men  who  upheld  the  reputation  of 
the  new  poet  at  a  time  when  he  was  greatly  ridi- 
culed, and  when  the  influence  of  Scott  and  Byron 
was  supreme. 

Lady  Jones  characteristically  wrote  to  him  at 
this  time  her  wish  that  all  his  "  German  boeks  were 
burnt."     He  replied  :  — 

"¥an.,  1820.  —  As  for  my  German  books,  I  hope  from 
my  heart  that  the  day  will  never  arrive  when  I  shall  be 
induced  to  burn  them,  for  I  am  convinced  that  I  never 
shall  do  so,  unless  I  have  first  become  a  base  slave  of 
Mammon,  and  a  mere  vile  lump  of  selfishness.  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  repay  a  hundredth  part  of  the  obligation 
I  am  under  to  them,  even  though  I  were  to  shed  every 
drop  of  my  blood  in  defence  of  their  liberties.  For  to 
them  I  owe  the  best  of  all  my  knowledge,  and  if  they 
have  not  purified  my  heart,  the  fault  is  my  own.  Above 
all,  to  them  I  owe  my  ability  to  believe  in  Christianity 
with  a  much  more  implicit  and  intelligent  faith  than  I 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS   HARE.  21 

otherwise  should  have  been  able  to  have  done ;  for  with- 
out them  I  should  only  have  saved  myself  from  dreary 
suspicions,  by  a  refusal  to  allow  my  heart  to  follow 
my  head,  and  by  a  self-willed  determination  to  believe 
whether  my  reason  approved  of  my  belief  or  not.  The 
question  has  so  often  been  a  subject  of  discussion  that 
I  have  determined,  once  for  all,  to  state  my  reasons  for 
remaining  firm  in  my  opinion." 

To  his  extensive  acquaintance  with  German 
thought  and  German  thinkers  is  due  the  German 
tone  which  pervades  many  of  the  "  Guesses  at 
Truth,"  furnished  by  Julius  to  the  volumes  which 
appeared  in  1827.  "Its  authors,  it  has  been  said, 
suppose  truth  to  be  mere  guesswork.  An  observa- 
tion more  curiously  inapplicable  to  the  spirit  and 
character  of  both  brothers  was  certainly  never  haz- 
arded. Because  they  were  so  confident  that  truth 
is  fixed  and  eternal,  —  thafr  it  is  not  the  creature  of 
man's  notions  and  speculations  —  that  a  man  must 
seek  for  it  as  hid  treasure,  not  refer  it  to  his  own 
narrow  rules  of  judgment,  —  therefore  they  thought 
it  an  exercise  useful  in  itself,  certain  of  reward,  to 
trace  the  vestiges  of  it  in  every  direction,  to  grasp 
even  the  skirts  of  its  garment,  and  if  they  missed  it, 
still  to  testify  that  it  was  ready  to  declare  itself  to 
more  faithful  inquiries.  They  believed  that  there 
was  a  ladder  set  up  on  earth  and  reaching  to  heaven  ; 
that  the  voice  of  God  may  be  heard  in  the  calm 
midnight,  nay,  even  in  the  open  day,  by  those  who 
are  on  the  lowest  step  of  this  ladder,  who  have  only 
a  bed  of  earth,  with  a  stone  for  their  pillow,  if  they 


22  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

will  reverently  apply  their  ears  to  listen,  and  ask  to 
have  it  distinguished  from  the  noises  of  which  the 
air  is  full,  and  which  try  to  drown  or  mock  it.  These 
Guesses  have  cherished  this  conviction  in  the  hearts 
of  many  who  needed  it,  and  who  would  have  suffered 
infinite  loss  if  they  had  been  without  it.  And  they 
have  led  not  a  few  to  look  further  still ;  to  ask 
whether  there  is  not  a  Centre  of  all  God's  revela- 
tions, one  in  whom  He  created  the  world,  one  in 
whom  He  has  enlightened  men,  one  in  whom  He 
has  made  himself  perfectly  known.  The  words,  '  I 
am  the  Way,  and  the  Truth,  and  the  Life,'  have 
come  to  them  as  at  once  the  encouragement  and 
the  result  of  their  guesses.  If  this  result  is  not 
what  our  doctors  of  the  law,  our  masters  in  Israel 
desire,  it  may,  nevertheless,  be  one  which  He  does 
not  disapprove,  who  in  every  part  of  nature,  and  in 
every  human  relation,  found  parables  of  his  king- 
dom, and  openings  through  which  his  disciples 
might  have  glimpses  of  it."  * 

Julius's  career  as  a  lawyer  was  of  short  duration, 
and  most  gladly  did  he  welcome  the  change  when, 
in  1822,  his  friend  Whewell,  already  a  tutor  of 
Trinity,  conveyed  to  him  the  offer  of  a  classical 
tutorship  in  his  own  college.  He  at  once  returned 
to  Cambridge  and  took  possession  of  delightful 
rooms  in  the  tower  at  the  back  of  Trinity,  looking 
down  its  beautiful  lime  avenue,  —  rooms  where  he 
collected  the  nucleus  of  that  library  which  after- 
wards rendered  his  country  home  so  remarkable 
*  Preface  to  Hare's  Charges.     1843-46. 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS   HARE.  23 

amongst  English  rectories,  and  where  he  resided 
throughout  the  next  ten  years,  to  which  he  owed, 
as  he  himself  described  it,  "  the  building  up  of  his 
mind." 

At  Cambridge  Julius  Hare  re-united  in  a  great 
measure  the  large  circle  of  friends  amid  whom  his 
undergraduate  life  had  been  passed,  —  Sedgewick, 
Whewell,  Thirlwall,  Worsley  (whom  he  was  wont 
to  call  "  the  brother  of  his  heart "),  and,  for  a  time, 
Digby,  the  author  of  the  "  Broadstone  of  Honor," 
"that  noble  manual  for  gentlemen,  that  volume" 
(wrote  Julius)  "  which,  had  I  a  son,  I  would  place 
in  his  hands,  charging  him,  though  such  prompting 
words  would  be  needless,  to  love  it  next  to  his 
Bible."  Among  his  pupils  also  were  three  young 
men  who  were  among  the  intimate  friends  of  his 
later  life,  John  Sterling,  Frederick  Maurice,  and 
Richard  Cavendish. 

The  pupils  who  attended  Julius  Hare's  lectures 
have  a  vivid  recollection  of  their  interest.  "  While 
in  form  he  was  adapting  himself  exactly  to  the 
practice  of  English  colleges,"  wrote  one  of  them, 
"  in  spirit  he  was  following  the  course  which  a  cul- 
tivated man,  thoroughly  in  earnest  to  give  his  pupils 
the  advantage  of  his  cultivation,  and  not  ambitious 
of  displaying  himself,  would  fall  into."  "When 
we  were  reading  the  Gorgias  of  Plato,  his  anxiety 
seemed  to  be  that  Plato  should  explain  himself  to 
us,  and  should  help  to  explain  us  to  ourselves. 
Whatever  he  could  do  to  further  this  end  by  bring- 
ing his  reading  and  scholarship  to  bear  upon  the 


24  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

illustration  of  the  text,  by  throwing  out  hints  as  to 
the  course  the  dialogue  was  taking,  by  exhibiting 
his  own  fervent  interest  in  Plato,  and  his  belief  of 
the  high  purpose  he  was  aiming  at,  he  did.  But  to 
give  us  second-hand  reports,  though  they  were  ever 
so  excellent,  —  to  save  us  the  trouble  of  thinking  — 
to  supply  us  with  a  moral,  instead  of  showing  us 
how  we  might  find  it,  not  only  in  the  book,  but 
in  our  own  hearts,  —  this  was  clearly  not  his  in- 
tention." * 

Amid  his  collegiate  duties,  Julius  Hare  found 
time  to  unite  with  his  friend  Thirlwall  in  the  vast 
labor  of  translating  Niebuhr  s  "  History  of  Rome," 
and  editing  it  with  fresh  notes  from  his  own  read- 
ing. This  work  brought  down  upon  its  author, 
and  by  implication  upon  its  translators,  a  charge  of 
scepticism  as  to  secular  history  which  would  tend 
to  encourage  a  similar  feeling  in  regard  to  sacred 
history.  This  led  Julius  to  publish  (1829)  his 
"  Vindication  of  Niebuhr,"  the  first  of  a  long  series 
of  vindications  which  in  later  life  he  used  playfully 
to  say  he  should  one  day  collect  and  publish  in  one 
volume,  under  the  title  of  "  Vindiciae  Harianae,"  or 
the  "  Hare  with  many  Friends."  "  Any  attack  on 
Luther,  Niebuhr,  Bunsen,  Coleridge,  would  have 
called  forth  his  sword  from  its  scabbard  under 
much  less  provocation  than  was  actually  given  in 
the  respective  cases.  Indeed,  in  some  of  these 
instances  we  almost  wonder  at  the  amount  of 
energy  and  learning  spent  against  charges  which 

*  Preface  to  Hare's  Charges.     1856. 


AUGUSTUS   AND  JULIUS   HARE.  2$ 

hardly  seemed  sufficient,  either  in  quality  or  quan- 
tity, to  need  any  refutation  at  all.  But  even  when 
the  object  of  attack  was  his  dearest  friend,  it  was 
an  outraged  sense  not  so  much  of  private  partiality 
as  of  public  justice  that  fired  the  train  ;  and  in  one 
remarkable  instance  in  his  later  life  (that  of  the 
Hampden  controversy)  he  came  forward  in  behalf 
of  an  entire  stranger." 

"  The  scholarship  of  Julius  Hare  was  of  a  kind 
which  penetrated  the  whole  frame  of  his  mind.  Like 
all  English  scholarships,  it  was  built  upon  a  classical 
basis,  and  the  effect  of  this,  enlarged  as  it  was  by 
the  widest  view  of  the  ancient  writers,  never  left 
him.  Greece  and  Rome  were  always  present  to 
his  mind  ;  and  when  he  afterwards  endeavored  to 
arouse  the  clergy  of  Sussex  by  the  strains  of  Alcaeus, 
it  was  only  one  instance  out  of  many  in  which  his 
deep  delight  in  classical  antiquity  found  its  vent  in 
the  common  occasions  of  life.  To  the  older  school 
of  English  elegant  scholarship  he  hardly  belonged, 
but  in  a  profound  and  philosophical  knowledge  of 
the  learned  languages  he  was  probably  second  to 
none,  even  in  that  brilliant  age  of  his  Cambridge 
contemporaries  ;  and  he  was  one  of  the  first  ex- 
amples that  England  has  seen,  not  merely  of  a 
scholar,  but  of  a  '  philologer/  of  one  who  studied 
language  not  by  isolated  rules  but  by  general  laws. 

"  This  precision  of  scholarship  showed  itself  in  a 
form  which  is  perhaps,  to  many,  one  of  the  chief 
associations  connected  with  his  name.  Almost  any 
one  who  has  ever  heard  of  Julius  Hare's  writings 


26  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

has  heard  of  his  strange  spelling.  Every  one 
knows  that  his  sermons  were  not  '  preached '  like 
those  of  ordinary  mortals,  but  '  preacht ; '  that  his 
books  were  not  '  published/  but  '  publisht.'  It  is 
but  due  to  his  memory  to  remind  our  readers  that 
it  was  not,  as  most  people  suppose,  an  arbitrary 
fancy,  but  a  deliberate  conviction,  founded  on  un- 
doubted facts  in  the  English  language,  which  dic- 
tated his  deviation  from  ordinary  practice.  His 
own  statement  of  his  principle  is  contained  in  a 
valuable  and  interesting  essay  on  the  subject  in 
the  Philological  Museum  ;  and  it  was  maintained  in 
the  first  instance  not  only  by  himself,  but  by  his  two 
illustrious  colleagues  at  Cambridge.  But  Bishop 
Thirlwall  openly  abandoned  it  in  his  history  of 
Greece,  and  has  never  since  recurred  to  it ;  and 
Dr.  Whewell  confined  it  to  his  occasional  efforts 
in  verse.  It  was  characteristic  of  the  man  that 
Hare  alone  persevered  to  the  end  ;  whether  it 
were  a  hymn-book  for  his  parish  church  or  a  monu- 
mental tablet,  a  German  novel  or  a  grave  discourse 
on  the  highest  matters  of  Church  and  State,  he 
would  never  abandon  what  he  considered  the  true 
standard  of  correct  scholarship,  or  countenance  the 
anomalies  of  popular  practice.  We  may  justly 
smile  at  the  excess  to  which  this  pertinacity  was 
carried  ;  but  it  was  an  index  of  that  unwearied  dili- 
gence, of  that  conscientious  stickling  for  truth 
which  honorably  distinguished  him  amongst  his 
contemporaries  ;  it  was  an  index  also,  as  we  may 
fairly  allow,  of  that  curious  disregard  for  congruity 


AUGUSTUS   AND   JULIUS    HARE.  27 

which,  more  than  any  other  cause,  marred  his  use* 
fulness  in  life." 

"  The  scholarship  of  Julius  Hare  was  remark- 
able for  its  combination  with  his  general  learning. 
Learning  as  an  acquisition  is  not  perhaps  uncom- 
mon ;  but  as  an  available  possession  it  is  a  very 
rare  gift.  It  is  easy  to  accumulate  knowledge  ; 
but  it  is  not  easy  to  digest,  to  master,  to  repro- 
duce it.  This,  however,  was  certainly  accomplished 
in  his  case."  * 

As  our  story  will,  for  many  years,  be  more  con- 
nected with  the  life  of  Augustus  than  with  that  of 
Julius  Hare,  it  may  be  well  to  look  forward  here  for 
a  few  years. 

On  Easter  Sunday,  1826,  Julius  was  ordained 
deacon  in  Wells  Cathedral  by  Bishop  Law,  and  on 
the  following  Trinity  Sunday  was  ordained  priest, 
at  St.  George's,  Hanover  Square,  by  Sparke, 
Bishop  of  Ely.  His  first  university  sermon,  after- 
wards published  under  the  title  of  the  "  Children 
of  Light,"  was  preached  on  Advent  Sunday,  1828. 
This  sermon  assumed  that  his  hearers  were  born 
in  light,  and  that  if  they  walked  in  darkness,  that 
darkness  was  caused  by  the  sin  which  had  broken 
up  the  even  tenor  of  the  true  life  which  was  in- 
tended, and  that  their  true  conversion  would  be 
simply  the  restoration  of  the  light,  which  was  the 
guide  of  childhood.  His  next  well-known  sermon, 
the  "  Law  of  Self-Sacrifice,"  was  preached  in  Trin- 
ity   Chapel   at  the  Commemoration  of    1829,   an 

*  Quarterly  Reviezv,  cxciii. 


28  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

earnest  protest  against  the  selfish  theory  of  re- 
ligion. It  at  once  announces  the  opposite  law  as 
the  one  which  binds  together  all  things  in  earth 
and  heaven,  as  that  which  affords  the  only  expla- 
nation of  all  the  great  facts  of  history,  of  all  that 
has  produced  any  real  effect  upon  mankind  in 
poetry,  art,  science.  Selfishness  he  traces,  indeed, 
everywhere :  but  as  the  disturbing,  destructive 
force  ;  the  enemy  of  the  order  of  the  world,  not 
its  principle ;  that  which  the  Son  of  God  by  His 
sacrifice  came  to  subvert,  because  He  came  to 
renew  and  restore  all  things.  Theology  is  here, 
as  elsewhere,  the  necessary  climax  as  well  as  the 
necessary  foundation  of  all  his  other  thoughts  ;  he 
does  not  want  to  reconcile  them  with  it ;  it  is  the 
reconciliation  of  them.  The  sermon  on  "  The  Sin 
against  the  Holy  Ghost "  is  in  strict  harmony  with 
these,  inasmuch  as  it  connects  the  common  daily 
life  of  the  English  student  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury with  the  principles  set  forth  in  Scripture,  even 
with  the  most  awful  sentences  in  it.  These  are 
not  used  to  produce  a  fearful  impression  upon  the 
nerves,  but  to  keep  the  conscience  alive  to  its  con- 
tinued peril,  as  well  as  to  its  mighty  treasures  and 
responsibilities,  —  to  the  truth,  that  all  true  and 
righteous  deeds,  by  whomsoever  they  are  enacted, 
are  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  now  as  in  other 
days.* 

Until  these  Cambridge  sermons  were  preached, 
tutors  and  fellows  alike  felt  sure  that  no  under- 

*  See  Preface  to  Hare's  Charges,  1843-46. 


AUGUSTUS  AND  JULIUS   HARE.  29 

graduate  could  be  induced  to  sit  through  discourses 
of  such  prodigious  length,  yet  they  were  not  only 
listened  to  with  patience,  but  not  more  than  two 
days  after  the  preaching  of  the  first  sermon,  a 
petition  for  its  publication  was  sent  to  Julius  Hare, 
more  numerously  signed  than  any  that  had  been 
known  for  years.  After  publication,  however, 
these  sermons  scarcely  met  with  the  success 
which  was  anticipated.  Many  would  perhaps  have 
been  more  impressed  by  them  if  they  had  not 
taken  advantage  of  their  peculiarities,  —  of  the 
quaint  expressions  they  contained,  —  to  turn  aside ; 
these  seemed  to  afford  a  handle  to  such  as  were 
glad  of  one,  to  take  hold  of  as  a  diversion  from 
the  serious  impression  they  could  not  otherwise 
avoid. 


III. 


STOKE,  ALDERLEY,  AND  HODNET. 

"La  jeunesse  devait  etre  une  caisse  d'epargne." 

Madame  Swetchine, 

"  This  life  which  seems  so  fair, 

Is  like  a  bubble  blown  up  in  the  air 

By  sporting  children's  breath, 

Who  chase  it  everywhere, 
And  strive  who  can  most  motion  it  bequeath." 

William  Drummond,  i  585-1649. 

HHHE  great  interest  and  pleasure  of  my  mother's  * 
*■-  early  home  life  came  from  Hodnet,  two  miles 
from  her  father's  rectory,  where  Reginald  Heber 
held  the  living.  Her  first  acquaintance  with  the 
Hebers  began  through  her  constantly  walking 
across  the  heath  from  Stoke  to  the  afternoon  Sun- 
day service,  to  hear  him  preach.  From  frequently 
seeing  her  at  church,  the  Reginald  Hebers  began  to 
invite  her  to  pass  Sunday  with  them  ;  and  the  inti- 
macy thus  engendered  increased  till  scarcely  a  day 
passed,  part  of  which  was  not  spent  at  Hodnet,  — 
Maria  Leycester  joining  the  Hebers  in  their  after- 

*  The  narrative  here  turns  for  a  time  from  the  Hares  to  Maria 
Leycester,  who  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  Augustus,  and  the 
central  figure  of  this  work.  —  Am.  Ed. 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND   HODNET.  3 1 

noon  rides  through  the  delightful  glades  of  Hawke- 
stone,  and  remaining  to  dinner ;  while,  in  the 
evenings,  Mr.  Heber  would  read  aloud,  poetry,  or 
Walter  Scott's  newly  published  novels,  "  Waverley," 
"  Guy  Mannering,"  and  "  Ivanhoe,"  which,  for 
several  years,  while  their  authorship  remained  a 
mystery,  were  generally  attributed  to  Richard 
Heber,  the  rector's  elder  brother.  In  1817,  Miss 
Leycester  spent  her  mornings  also  at  Hodnet, 
where,  when  she  wished  to  learn  German  in  prep- 
aration for  a  foreign  tour,  Mr.  Heber  offered  to 
become  her  instructor.  At  the  same  time,  he  fre- 
quently wrote  songs  to  suit  her  music,  as  he  greatly 
delighted  in  her  playing  and  singing.  His  little 
poem,  "  I  see  them  on  their  Winding  Way,"  was 
written  thus  in  October,  1820. 

Nor  was  it  only  by  lessons  in  literature  that  Regi- 
nald Heber  instructed  his  pupil.  No  one  could  live 
constantly  within  the  influence  of  his  cheerful  active 
life,  devoted,  either  at  home  or  amongst  his  parish- 
ioners, to  the  good  of  others,  yet  with  the  most 
entire  unostentation,  without  praying  that  his  man- 
tle might  fall  upon  them.  "  In  no  scene  of  his  life, 
perhaps,"  wrote  Mr.  Blunt,  "  did  his  character  appear 
in  greater  beauty  than  while  he  was  living  here, 
1  seeing  God's  blessings  spring  out  of  his  mother 
earth,  and  eating  his  own  bread  in  peace  and  pri- 
vacy.' His  talents  might  have  made  him  proud, 
but  he  was  humble-minded  as  a  child,  —  eager  to 
call  forth  the  intellectual  stores  of  others,  rather 
than  to  display  his  own,  —  arguing  without  dog- 


32  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

matism,  and  convincing  without  triumph,  —  equally 
willing  to  reason  with  the  wise,  or  to  take  a  share 
in  the  innocent  gayeties  of  a  winter's  fireside ;  for 
it  was  no  part  of  his  creed  that  all  innocent  mirth 
ought  to  be  banished  from  the  purlieus  of  a  good 
man's  dwelling  ;  or  that  he  is  called  upon  to  abstract 
himself  from  the  refinements  and  civilities  of  life,  as 
if  sitting  to  Teniers  for  a  picture  of  the  Tempta- 
tions of  St.  Anthony.     The  attentions  he  received 
might  have  made  him  selfish,  but  his  own  inclina- 
tion was  ever  the  last  he  consulted ;  indeed,  of  all 
the  features  in  his  character,  this  was,  perhaps,  the 
most  prominent,  —  that  in  him  self  did  not  seem  to 
be  denied,  to  be  mortified,  but  to  be  forgotten.    His 
love  of   letters  might  have  made  him  an  inactive 
parish  priest,  but  he  was  daily  amongst  his  par- 
ishioners, advising  them  in  difficulties,  comforting 
them  in  distress,  kneeling,  often  to  the  hazard  of 
his  own  life,  by  their  sick-beds  ;  exhorting,  encour- 
aging, reproving  as  he  saw  need ;  when  there  was 
strife,  the  peacemaker  ;  when  there  was  want,  the 
cheerful   giver.     Yet,   in   all   this,   there   was    no 
parade,  no  effort,  apparently  not  the  smallest  con- 
sciousness that  his  conduct  differed  from  that  of 
other  men,  —  his  duty  seemed  to  be  his  delight, 
his  piety  an  instinct.     Many  a  good  deed  done  by 
him  in  secret  only  came  to  light  when  he  had  been 
removed  far  away,  and  but  for  that  removal  would 
have  been  for  ever  hid  ;  many  an  instance  of  be- 
nevolent interference  when  it  was  least  suspected, 
and   of    delicate   attention   towards   those   whose 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,   AND   HODNET.  33 

humble  rank  in  life  is  too  often  thought  to  exempt 
their  superiors  from  all  need  of  mingling  courtesy 
with  kindness.  That  he  was  sometimes  deceived 
in  his  favorable  estimate  of  mankind,  it  would  be 
vain  to  deny ;  such  a  guileless,  confiding,  unsuspi- 
cious singleness  of  heart  as  his,  cannot  always  be 
proof  against  cunning.  But  if  he  had  not  this 
worldly  knowledge,  he  wanted  it  perhaps  in  com- 
mon with  most  men  of  genius  and  virtue  ;  the 
*  wisdom  of  the  serpent '  was  almost  the  only  wis- 
dom in  which  he  did  not  abound."  * 

The  following  extracts  from  letters  give  some 
glimpses  into  Maria  Leycester's  home  life  during 
these  years  of  her  youth  :  ■ — 
Maria  Leycester  to  Miss  Hibbert. 

11  May  24,  1817.^-1  have  just  spent  two  delightful 
days  at  Hodnet  Rectory.  Oh,  the  charms  of  a  rectory 
inhabited  by  a  Reginald  Heber,  or  an  Edward  Stanley !  f 
To  be  sure,  splendor  and  luxury  sink  into  the  ground 
before  such  real  happiness.  ...  I  do  not  think  I  ever 
before  enjoyed  the  beauties  of  nature  as  much  as  I 
have  done  this  spring,  and  you  cannot  imagine  how  in- 
teresting my  solitary  rides  are  made  by  the  varieties  of 
light  and  shade,  —  the  lightness  and  elegance  of  the 
newly  come-out  trees,  backed  by  magnificent  black  or 
purple  clouds,  and  the  various  pretty  bits  that  strike  my 
fancy.  I  attribute  one  cause  of  my  increased  pleasure 
to  the  having  learnt  to  color.  A  hundred  beautifully 
tinted  cottages,  or  trees,  or  mossy  rocks  which  I  never 

*  Quarterly  Review,  1827. 

t  Her    brother-in-law,   afterwards  Bishop    of  Norwich,    and 
father  of  Dean  Stanley. 

2*  r. 


34  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

remarked  before,  now  give  me  much  pleasure,  just  as  I 
felt  before  that  the  knowledge  of  drawing  itself  made  me 
find  out  many  picturesque  things  which  my  natural  taste 
would  not  have  discovered." 

"June  7,  1817.  —  I  have  spent  a  very  agreeable 
week ;  but  you  will  not  be  very  much  surprised  when 
you  learn  that  two  of  the  days  we  had  the  Reginald 
Hebers  here,  and  the  rest  I  spent  at  Alderley.  I  never 
saw,  or  rather  heard  Mr.  Reginald  Heber  so  agreeable, 
though,  indeed,  I  always  say  this  of  the  last  time  of 
seeing  him  j  but,  really,  his  stories  are  quite  inexhaust- 
ible, —  the  more  he  tells,  the  more  he  seems  to  have  to 
tell.  His  brother,  Mr.  Heber,  was  here  likewise  one 
day,  and  was  very  agreeable  too ;  but  not  so  lovable  as 
Reginald.  How  happy  I  am  to  be  able  to  say  I  love 
him  !  I  may  thank  Mrs.  R.  H.  for  that.  I  dine  with 
them  on  Saturday,  that  I  may  ride  with  them  in  the 
evening,  and  in  short  I  see  them  "continually." 

"  Dec.  14,  18 18.  — My  brothers  and  I  have  had  such  a 
pleasant  visit  at  Hodnet !  there  were  only  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
R.  Heber,  Mr.  Heber,  and  Mr.  Augustus  Hare  there. 
The  latter  is  the  oddest  and  most  agreeable  person  I 
have  seen  for  a  very  long  time,  —  very  clever  and  enthu- 
siastic, but  quite  unlike  other  people,  which  is  a  relief 
sometimes,  for  every-day  people  are  so  common  in  this 
world.  I  was  very  happy  in  reading  some  of  my  German 
with  the  dear  Reginald,  and  found  myself  infinitely  ad- 
vanced since  the  last  time  I  read  with  him." 

"March  25,  18 19.  —  There  is  something  in  the  feel 
and  appearance  of  a  bright  sunny  spring  day  which 
makes  one  feel  pleased  with  everybody  and  every  thing 
in  spite  of  one's  self.  It  gives  an  elastic  spring  to  one's 
feelings,  which  is  very  delightful,  and  the  sun  seems  to 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  35 

light  upon  the  bright  side  of  every  prospect  and  recollec- 
tion, and  to  leave  in  oblivion  every  less  pleasing  part. 
I  have  been  spending  two  whole  days  with  the  Reginald 
Hebers ;  he  was  very,  very  delightful,  and  our  evenings 
were  most  snug  and  comfortable.  Reginald  Heber 
made  songs  for  us  as  fast  as  we  could  sing  them." 

The  autumn  of  1819  was  spent  by  Maria  Ley- 
cester  in  travelling  through  Scotland  with  her 
brother  Edward  in  a  gig,  —  considered  a  most  ad- 
venturous enterprise  for  a  young  lady  in  those 
days, —  seeing  Arran,  Staffa,  and  a  great  part  of  the 
Highlands,  and  paying  visits  at  Blair  Athol  and 
Taymouth,  at  both  of  which  places  they  fell  in  with 
Prince  Leopold,  for  whose  recent  bereavement 
great  interest  was   then  excited. 

Maria  Leycester  to  Miss  Hibbert. 

"  Stoke  Rectory,  Oct.  24.  —  I  have  not  yet  told  you 
of  the  pleasantest  part  of  our  tour,  our  visit  to  Walter 
Scott.  He  lives  about  three  miles  from  Melrose,  and 
our  first  day's  journey  from  Edinburgh  was  to  his  house. 
We  had  a  letter  to  him  from  Reginald  Heber,  and  Mr. 
Scott  persuaded  us  to  stay  three  days  with  him,  during 
which  time  we  had  full  opportunity  of  becoming  ac- 
quainted with  him.  We  were  the  only  strangers,  and 
therefore  had  his  conversation  all  to  ourselves,  and  most 
highly  were  we  gratified.  He  is  unaffected  and  simple 
in  his  manner  to  the  greatest  degree,  and  at  first  his 
countenance  only  bespeaks  good  humor;  but  mention 
any  subject  that  interests  him,  and  he  lights  up  in  an 
instant  into  fire  and  animation.  He  is  a  kind  of  person 
one  could  not  feel  afraid  of  for  a  moment.     Whatever 


3t)  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

subject  you- begin  is  the  same  to  him  ;  he  has  something 
entertaining  to  tell  on  every  one,  and  the  quickness  with 
which  he  catches  up  every  thing  that  is  passing,  even 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  is  surprising.  His  family 
consists  of  a  very  insignificant  little  wife,  a  French 
woman,  quite  inferior  to  him,  and  his  daughters,  who 
are  fine,  sensible,  clever  girls,  quite  brought  up  by  him. 
The  eldest,  sang  Jacobite  songs  and  Border  ballads  to  us 
with  such  spirit  and  enthusiasm  that  it  was  delightful, 
and  their  love  for  Scotland  makes  them  quite  worthy  of 
it.  Their  chief  delight  is  in  the  Border  stories  and  tra- 
ditions, in  which  they  are  very  rich.  His  house  is  built 
by  himself,  and  is  very  odd  and  picturesque.  There  is 
a  little  armory  with  painted  glass  windows,  and  the  walls 
and  chimney-piece  covered  with  antiquities,  —  Claver- 
house's  pistol,  Rob  Roy's  gun  and  purse,  Highland 
arms,  targets,  and  claymores,  quaighs,  thumbscrews, 
trophies  from  Waterloo,  ancient  armor,  —  in  short,  it  is 
the  most  interesting  and  curious  little  room. 

"  Then  at  every  step  about  the  house  you  come  to 
some  curious  thing.  He  has  got  the  gate  of  the  Old 
Tolbooth,  and  the  great  keys  which  have  locked  up  so 
many  victims,  and  the  real  tower,  removed  to  his  house. 
But  I  have  no  room  for  more  about  Walter  Scott  now, 
except  that  we  came  away  quite  enchanted  with  the  poet, 
and  still  more  with  the  man." 

Maria  Leycester's  religious  impressions  became 
much  strengthened  about  this  time  by  the  opening 
of  a  correspondence  on  spiritual  subjects  with  her 
friend  Lucy  Stanley,  —  an  intercourse  which  was 
continued  through  their  whole  lives.  On  January 
6,  1820,  she  had  first  written  :  — 


STOKE,    ALDERLEY,    AND    HODNET.  37 

Maria  Leycester  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"  I  cannot  tell  how  much  pleasure  it  gives  me  to  think 
that  you  have  become  interested  in  that  subject,  which 
to  those  who  think  seriously  about  it  must  be  the  most 
interesting  that  can  be  found,  —  the  comfort,  the  assist- 
ance, the  support  it  affords,  are  so  far  beyond  that 
which  any  thing  else  can  give,  that,  having  once  found  it, 
I  am  not  afraid  you  should  forsake  it.  For  my  own  sake, 
too,  I  am  glad,  for  I  always  feel  a  great  reluctance  to 
express  to  another  person  feelings  which  I  am  not  sure 
that  they  will  perfectly  understand  ;  and  I  feel,  and  I 
daresay  you  have  felt  this  far  more  with  regard  to  re- 
ligion than  to  any  thing  else.  There  is  a  sacredness 
about  it  which  prevents  one  entering  upon  it  except 
where  "it  will  be  entirely  entered  into,  —  where  there 
can  be  no  mistake  about  the  nature  of  one's  feelings. 
It  is  not  a  feeling  which  can  be  explained ;  it  must  be 
felt,  as  that  which  leads  one  to  aspire  to  an  ambition 
higher  far  than  we  can  find  here,  as  that  which  affords 
a  noble  and  exalted  motive  for  every  exertion."  .  .  . 

In  December,  1822,  the  Bishopric  of  Calcutta 
was  offered  to  Reginald  Heber,  with  but  little  hope 
that  he  would  be  willing  to  sacrifice  the  comforts 
and  interests  of  his  Shropshire  living  for  a  mitre 
on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges.  He  was,  however, 
led  to  its  acceptance  by  the  consciousness  of  how 
wide  a  sphere  of  usefulness  he  would  reject  in  its 
refusal,  and  almost  immediately  began  to  prepare 
for  his  departure  from  Hodnet.  Greatly  as  his 
approaching  loss  was  felt  by  many  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, the  blow  was  incomparably  most  severe  to 


38  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

Maria  Leycester,  who  for  many  years  had  been 
like  a  sister  to  him,  and  who  had  derived  her  chief 
home-pleasures  from  his  society,  and  that  of  Mrs. 
Heber. 

Maria  Leycester's  Journal. 

"Feb.  8,  1823.  — The  extreme  suffering  I  felt  on  first 
hearing  of  the  intended  departure  of  the  Hebers  for 
India  has  now  passed.  Those  vividly  painful  feelings 
seldom  continue  long  in  the  same  form,  when  the  neces- 
sity for  exertion,  variety  of  society,  and  change  of  place, 
call  upon  the  mind  for  fresh  thoughts.  But  though'  the 
immediate  shock  is  over,  and  my  mind  is  by  time  habit- 
uated to  the  idea,  so  that  I  can  now  think  and  write  of 
it  calmly,  it  is  no  less  a  source  of  the  deepest  sorrow  to 
me.  Nor  is  it  merely  in  the  pain  of  parting  with  such 
friends  that  I  shall  feel  it.  It  will  be  in  the  daily  loss 
I  shall  experience  of  kind  and  affectionate  neighbors,  of 
an  interest  always  kept  up,  of  the  greatest  part  of  my 
home  enjoyments. 

"  I  had  so  little  foreseen,  at  any  time,  the  possibility 
of  this  event,  that  I  was  totally  unprepared  for  it,  and 
although  now  it  appears  quite  natural  that  Reginald, 
who  is  so  peculiarly  fitted  for  the  situation,  should  wish 
for  it,  I  could  hardly  at  first  believe  it  to  be  possible.  .  .  . 
The  remembrance  of  the  last  two  years  rises  up  before 
me  so  much  the  more  endeared  from  the  thought  that 
those  happy  days  will  never  again  return.  There  is 
nothing  out  of  my  own  family  which  could  have  made 
so  great  a  blank  in  my  existence  as  this  will  do.  For 
so  many  years  have  they  been  to  me  as  brother  and  sis- 
ter, giving  to  me  so  much  pleasure,  so  much  improve- 
ment.    It  will  be  the  breaking  up  of  my  thoughts  and 


STOKE,   ALDERLEY,   AND    HODNET.  39 

habits  and  affections  for  years,  and  scarcely  can  I  bear 
to  think  that  in  a  few  months  those  whom  I  have  loved 
so  dearly  will  be  removed  from  me  far  into  another 
world,  —  for  such  does  India  appear  at  this  distance." 

In  the  following  winter,  during  visits  in  the 
neighborhood  of  London,  Augustus  Hare  was  the 
only  person  Miss  Leycester  had  any  pleasure  in 
seeing,  and  she  gratefully  received  his  kindness 
and  sympathy.  Though  he  was  more  reserved 
and  cautious  in  speaking  of  the  future  than  he 
had  hitherto  been,  he  talked  much  of  past  days, 
and  but  to  hear  and  talk  of  them  was  sufficient 
happiness  for  her.  From  him  she  learnt  of  the 
safe  arrival  of  the  Ganges  in  India,  and  of  the 
welfare  and  well-being  of  his  friend. 


IV. 


CHANGES. 

"God  writes  straight  on  crooked  lines." 

Spanish  Proverb. 

"Circumstance,  that  unspiritual  God,  was  then  a  most 
fruitful  source  of  spirituality."  —  Di6by. 

TT  was  in  returning  from  Scotland  in  1818,  that 
■*■  Augustus  Hare,  while  visiting  the  Hebers  at 
Hodnet,  made  his  first  acquaintance  with  Miss 
Leycester.  He  was  at  Hodnet  on  her  birthday 
(November  22).  On  the  preceding  day  the  con- 
versation had  turned  upon  Italy  —  a  subj  ect  which 
always  called  forth  the  full  powers  of  his  enthu- 
siasm —  and  she  had  playfully  asked  him  to  write 
an  ode  upon  it.  In  the  night  hours  he  wrote,  and 
on  the  following  morning  presented  her  with  his 
Ode  to  Italy. 

The  summer  of  18 19  was  passed  by  Augustus 
Hare  at  the  English  lakes.  Thence  he  wrote  to 
his  friend  Frederick  Blackstone  :  — 

"  Of  the  Lakes  I  will  only  say  that  I  found  Southey 
more  egotistical,  less  identified  with  his  family,  and  more 
reflective  than  I  expected.  By  the  way,  I  am  surprised 
you  should  represent  him  as  inimical  to  discussion,  for 
into  one  I  was  betrayed  by  him  unawares,  and  into  another 


CHANGES.  41 

he  attempted  to  lead  me,  challenging  and  almost  pulling 
me  to  the  field.  At  first  I  thought  his  manner  cold,  but 
it  gradually  thawed,  and  before  we  parted  he  seemed  to 
begin  to  take  considerable  interest  about  me.  Words- 
worth I  found  much  greater  in  the  common  concerns  of 
life  than  I  had  anticipated.  He  is  as  perfect  an  instance 
in  his  way  of  the  connection  between  genius  and  kind- 
heartedness  as  Mr.  Scott  is,  of  whom  you  know  my  ad- 
miration ;  and  it  is  interesting  to  observe  two  men  of 
great  powers,  who  are  so  remarkably  different  in  many 
respects,  agreeing  and  reflecting  each  other's  character 
in  this." 

On  November  19,  he  wrote  to  Lady  Jones  :  — 

"I  left  Edinburgh  by  way  of  Selkirk  and  Melrose, 
stopping  by  the  way  to  see  Walter  Scott.  He  lives  in  a 
cottage  transmogrified  by  additions  into  a  sort  of  castle, 
on  the  road  between  these  two  places.  His  family  con- 
sists of  a  silly  little  Frenchwoman,  his  wife,  two  stout 
lassies  of  daughters  under  twenty,  the  eldest  of  whom  is 
said  to  be  a  very  extraordinary  person,  and  a  great  favor- 
ite with  her  father,  and  an  enormous  staghound,  with 
three  or  four  other  dogs  of  various  kinds  as  his  satellites. 
Walter  Scott  himself  looks  like  a  very  stout,  good-hu- 
mored shepherd  ;  and  if  it  be  a  merit  in  a  poet  not  to  be 
'all-poet,'  he  possesses  it  in  a  very  high  degree.  He 
kept  me  all  day  with  him,  and  in  the  evening  had  a 
large  party  of  borderers  to  dinner,  which  I  regretted,  as 
I  would  rather  have  seen  him  merely  with  his  family. 
But  in  the  morning  he  was  very  delightful  \  we  walked 
together  round  his  little  property,  and  the  interest  he 
took  in  his  plantations,  fences,  and  crops  —  reaped,  sow- 
ing, and  to  be  sown  —  reminded  me  completely  of  Wort- 


42  •  RECORDS   OF  A   QUIET  LIFE. 

ing.  At  the  same  time  he  has  not  the  affectation  of 
dropping  the  author  altogether,  for  in  pointing  out  the 
various  objects  around  to  me  he  did  not  omit  to  mention 
the  lands  of  Deloraine,  '  which,'  he  added  with  a  smile, 
'you  may  perhaps  have  heard  of.'  In  the  same  way, 
many  of  his  beasts  are  named  after  persons  in  his 
works, —  his  old  mare  is  Sybil  Grey.  He  talked  of 
the  tales  and  novels  exactly  as  an  indifferent  person 
would  have  done,  except  that  he  praised  them  less  and 
alluded  to  them  more.  He  seemed  extremely  attached 
to  Reginald  Heber,  and  indeed  to  every  thing  else  ex- 
cept Bonaparte  and  a  few  Scotch  whigs,  for  never  did 
I  meet  a  man  so  overflowing  with  the  milk  of  human 
kindness." 

In  the  summer  of  1820,  Augustus  was  selected 
as  one  of  the  School  Examiners  at  Oxford,  and 
during  this  time  "  Augustus  Hare  plucked  Cicero 
Rabbit,"  which  caused  great  amusement  to  the 
University.  "  My  work  began  on  Monday,"  he 
wrote  to  F.  Blackstone  ;  "  I  was  extremely  fright- 
ened the  first  day,  and  though  my  spirits  gradually 
increased,  it  was  long  before  I  ventured  on  a  viva- 
voce  appearance  in  Logic.  I  also  find  great  diffi- 
culty from  being  out  of  practice  in  minutiae  of  the 
two  grammars.  Things  which  I  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  take  for  granted  till  I  have  forgotten  the 
reason  why  they  should  be  so,  are  denied,  and  the 
unexpectedness  of  the  answer  has  more  than  once 
silenced  me,  and  made  me  doubt  the  accuracy  of 
my  own  memory.  So  much  easier  is  it  to  say  what 
is  right  than  to  confute  what  is  wrong." 


CHANGES.  43 

In  the  spring  of  1825,  Augustus  Hare  had  told 
Miss  Leycester  that,  upon  receiving  the  news  of 
Martin  Stow's  death,  he  thought  within  himself, 
"  If  I  were  to  die  now  without  ever  having  been  of 
use  !  "  —  and  that  evening  he  decided  upon  taking 
orders. 

On  Advent  Sunday,  1825,  he  was  ordained  in 
Winchester  College  Chapel  by  the  Bishop  of  Here- 
ford. That  in  taking  this  step  he  was  not  influ- 
enced by  worldly  motives  alone,  may  be  seen  from 
the  zeal  with  which  he  fulfilled  at  Alton- even  the 
high  idea  of  ministerial  duty  which  he  had  formed 
for  himself  and  suggested  to  his  friends.  Doubt- 
less each  year  spent  among  his  village  people 
brought  with  it  a  growth  in  grace  and  a  ripening 
for  immortality  ;  but  the  work  was  not  begun  at 
Alton.  As  he  himself  wrote  about  this  time,  per- 
haps with  reference  to  the  mental  struggle  which 
had  been  so  long  oppressing  him  :  "  In  darkness 
there  is  no  choice.  It  is  light  that  enables  us  to 
see  the  differences  between  things,  and  it  is  Christ 
that  gives  us  the  light."  On  December  24th,  1825, 
he  had  written  to  Lady  Jones  a  letter  (on  the  out- 
side of  which  she  has  inscribed  "  Mirabilia  !  ")  as 
follows  :  — 

"I  have  at  last  made  up  my  mind  to  take  orders 
at  the  Bishop  of  Hereford's  next  ordination.  I  know 
this  will  give  you  pleasure ;  and  may  God,  who  by  the 
workings  of  his  providence  thus  seems  to  call  me  to  a 
particular  state  of  life,  enable  me  to  do  my  duty  in  it. 
My  wish  would  be  to  continue  tutor  at  New  College 


44  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

during  my  year  of  deaconship,  to  be  ordained  priest  soon 
after  that  year  is  completed,  and  after  that  to  take  the 
first  good  country  curacy  that  offers. 

"So  far  I  feel  certain  that  you  will  like  my  letter. 
Would  I  were  as  sure  you  would  be  equally  pleased 
with  the  remainder.  But  the  truth  may  as  well  be  told 
at  once ;  and  as  I  have  lost  no  time  in  communicating 
to  you  my  decision  when  once  formed,  so  will  I  be 
equally  candid  in  confessing  what  has  induced  me  now 
to  form  it.     In  two  words,  it  is  Maria  Leycester." 

In  April,  Augustus  Hare  met  Miss  Leycester  at 
Alderley,  still  as  the  friend  of  Mr.  Stow,  and  a 
fellow-mourner  with  her  for  his  loss.  But  on  the 
day  before  he  left,  in  speaking  of  his  distress  in 
going  away,  he  disclosed  involuntarily  what  his 
own  feelings  had  been,  while  he  was  doing  all  he 
could  to  promote  the  happiness  of  his  friend. 

The  early  summer  of  1825  was  passed  by  Maria 
Leycester  at  Alderley. 
Maria  Leycester  to  Miss  Clinton. 

"Stoke,  July  27,  1825.  —  That  I  have  not  written  to 
you  before  you  will  easily  understand  to  have  arisen 
from  my  unwillingness  to  lose  a  single  hour  of  my  last 
days  at  Alderley.  They  were  indeed  very  precious  to 
me,  and  after  staying  there  for  four  months  uninterrupt- 
edly, you  may  well  imagine  how  painful  it  was  to  me  to 
leave  all  those  who  were  more  than  usually  endeared  to 
me  by  the  comfort  they  had  afforded  me  during  a  time 
when  nothing  else  could  have  pleased  or  interested. 
Certainly  too,  altogether,  with  its  inhabitants,  its  abun- 
dance of  books,  of  drawings,  liberty  unrestrained,  beauti- 
ful walks  and  rides  and  seats,  luxuriance  of  flowers,  and 


CHANGES.  •  45 

in  delicious  weather,  there  cannot  on  earth  be  so  perfect 
a  paradise.  During  the  hot  weather,  we  generally  went 
on  the  mere  or  rode  in  the  evenings.  Every  morning 
before  breakfast  Lucy  and  I  met  in  the  wood  at  the  old 
Moss  House,  where  we  spent  an  hour  together,  and  Owen 
came  to  ferry  me  home.  With  so  much  around  to  inter- 
est and  please  me,  I  put  away  self  as  much  as  possible, 
and  endeavored  as  much  as  I  could  to  enjoy  the  present. 
You  know  how  dearly  I  love  all  those  children,  and  it 
was  such  a  pleasure  to  see  them  all  so  happy  together. 
To  be  sure  it  would  be  singular  if  they  were  not  differ- 
ent from  other  children,  with  the  advantages  they  have, 
where  education  is  made  so  interesting  and  amusing  as 
it  is  to  them.  .  .  .  While  others  of  their  age  are  plod- 
ding through  the  dull  histories,  of  which  they  remem 
ber  nothing,  of  unconnected  countries  and  ages,  K.'s 
system  is  to  take  one  particular  era  perhaps,  and  upon 
the  basis  of  the  General  History,  pick  out  for  them  from 
different  books  all  that  bears  upon  that  one  subject, 
whether  in  memoirs  or  literature,  making  it  at  once  an 
interesting  study  to  herself  and  them." 

Maria  Leycester  to  a  Friend  in  London. 

"March  29,  1827.  —  All  your  doubts  and  difficulties  I 
enter  into  and  understand,  and  I  think  there  is  scarcely 
so  trying  a  situation,  one  so  full  of  fears,  as  that  of  a 
person  who  struggles  to  act  up  to  the  highest  sense  of 
right,  and  yet  wishes  not  to  seem  uncharitable,  or  to  con- 
demn those  around  who  act  differently  or  think  less  to 
be  necessary.  To  those  who  have  once  separated  them- 
selves from  the  world,  openly  shown  and  declared  the 
difference  of  their  opinions,  and  are  consequently  coun- 
tenanced by  many  others  who  think  and  act  as  they  do, 


46  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  difficulty  is  far  less,  —  the  struggle  is  at  an  end. 
They  have  made  their  choice,  and  though  they  may 
often  judge  imperfectly  and  be  judged  harshly,  they 
are,  I  do  not  doubt,  happier  than  those  who  try  to  recon- 
cile their  better  feelings  with  the  habits  of  the  world  by 
taking  a  middle  course.  To  persevere  with  firmness  and 
courage  in  what  we  know  to  be  right,  caring  not  for  the 
ridicule  of  others,  and  at  the  same  time  to  disarm  their 
censure  by  the  mildness,  humility,  and  charity  with  which 
we  differ  from  them,  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  points 
to  gain ;  but  I  agree  perfectly  with  you  that  no  one  can 
judge  of  another's  mind,  or  what  may  have  an  effect 
upon  it.  It  is  the  object  we  are.  to  attain  which  should 
be  alike  to  all,  the  means  of  arriving  at  it  may  differ  in 
every  different  person,  and  we  must  remember  we  are 
accountable  only  for  ourselves.  As  far  as  we  can  make 
Sunday  a  day  of  rest,  not  so  much  from  outward  acts  as 
from  earthly  feelings,  it  must  surely  be  right,  and  in  Lon- 
don, above  all  places,  this  is  so  difficult  to  do,  that  every 
help  we  can  give  to  our  wavering  fancies  must  be 
needed ;  indeed,  I  have  always  looked  back  with  shame 
upon  the  waste  of  so  sacred  a  day,  which  the  habits  of 
London  life  entail  even  upon  such  humble  sharers  in  it 
as  myself.  As  for  theatres,  I  cannot  understand  where 
their  individual  harm  lies.  How  far  example  and  sanc- 
tion is  right  is  another  question ;  but  I  cannot  but  think 
that  there  is  much  to  be  said  of  the  good  produced  by 
the  presence  of  respectable  and  good  people.  Such  amuse- 
ments, in  the  case  of  these  all  deserting  them,  would 
become  much  more  pernicious  in  their  character,  and  the 
staying  away  of  ever  so  many  would  not  deter  others 
from  going,  while  their  presence  may  be  a  restraint  and 
preservation  from  evil.  ..." 


CHANGES.  47 

Augustus  Hare  frequently  met  Miss  Leycester 
during  the  winter  of   1825-26,  which  she  passed 
with  her  brother  at  East  Sheen,  and  the  following 
summer  he  visited  Stoke. 
Maria  Leycester  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"  Stoke,  yune  23,  1826. — After  dining  early,  Augustus 
and  I  proposed  an  expedition  to  Hodnet,  and  my  father 
joined  us.  It  was  the  most  bright,  beautiful  evening,  and 
I  cannot  describe  to  you  how  lovely  the  rectory  looked, 
it  is  so  improved  since  the  trees  are  grown  up,  and  there 
was  such  an  abundance  of  flowers,  which  seemed  to 
mock  the  desolation  of  the  house  within.  As  I  stood 
there,  looking  at  that  beautiful  view,  my  mind  went  back 
to  years  gone  by,  and  I  could  almost  have  fancied  my- 
self again  the  Maria  Leycester  when  it  was  a  place  to 
me  of  such  exquisite  enjoyment.  I  thought  of  all  the 
happiness  I  had  received  there  from  those  I  loved  so 
dearly,  and  turned  to  find  them  all  gone,  Augustus  stand- 
ing by  me  as  the  only  remaining  link  of  all  that  had 
been.  We  went  together  over  the  garden  in  silence, 
both  feeling  much  that  could  find  no  utterance ;  but  it 
was  a  comfort  to  know  that  all  was  understood." 

Of  this  time  is  the  following  letter  from  Bishop 
Heber  ■  — 

" Bombay,  June 3, 1825.  — .  .  .  "It  has  not  been  alto- 
gether business  which  has  prevented  my  writing;  for, 
busy  as  I  have  been,  and  must  always  be,  I  could  still 
long  since  have  found  or  made  time  to  say  how  gratified 
I  am  by  your  keeping  me  in  recollection,  and  with  how 
much  eagerness  I  open  letters  which  bring  me  near  to 
such  valued  friends  at  so  great  a  distance,  and  which 
call  me  back,  as  yours  do,  for  a  time,  from  the  broad, 


48  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

arid  plain  of  Rohilkund  to  the  quiet  lanes  and  hedge- 
row walks  of  Stoke  or  Hodnet.  There  are,  however, 
alas !  so  many  painful  associations  connected  with  my 
handwriting  since  the  period  of  my  letters  to  Augustus 
and  Mrs.  Stanley,  that  I  have  felt,  to  say  the  truth,  a 
strange  reluctance  to  address  a  letter  to  you,  out  of  a 
fear  to  disturb  afresh  the  grief  of  an  affectionate  and 
innocent  heart,  which  had  been  so  severe  a  sufferer  by 
the  events  which  took  place  at  the  commencement  of 
my  present  journey.  That  journey,  interesting  as  it  has 
been,  and  full  of  scenes  and  circumstances  peculiarly 
adapted  to  excite  and  gratify,  has  had  its  pleasures,  in- 
deed, throughout,  alloyed  with  very  sad  recollections,  and 
much  as  I  enjoyed  the  beautiful  country  and  singular 
people  through  which  my  course  was  laid,  I  could  not 
help  often,  very  often,  calling  to  mind  that  I  was  seeing 
all  these  things  alone,  and  divided  by  distance,  or  a  yet 
more  awful  separation,  from  my  wife,  children,  and  the 
attached  and  affectionate  friend  with  whom  I  had  hoped 
to  share  my  pleasures  and  toils,  and  whose  acquire- 
ments, good  sense,  and  invincible  good  temper  and 
cheerfulness  so  remarkably  fitted  him  to  enjoy  and  profit 
by  such  a  pilgrimage.  My  wife  and  one  of  my  children 
—  our  dear  little  Emily  —  I  have  since  been  permitted 
to  rejoin,  and  the  acounts  we  receive  of  little  Harriet, 
whom  they  were  obliged  to  leave  behind  in  Calcutta,  con- 
tinue very  comfortable.  .  .  .  For  myself,  I  really  do  not 
recollect  a  time  when  I  have  enjoyed  more  perfect  health 
than  now,  and  though  my  hair  grows  gray  all  the  faster 
for  the  fiery  sunbeams  which  have  beaten  on  it,  yet 
*  that,'  as  I  remember  a  poor  old  woman  saying  of  her 
rheumatism,  'is,  at  my  time  of  life,  excusable'  As  to 
the  general  outline  of  our  lives  in  India,  you  have  had, 


CHANGES.  49 

I  know,  a  diligent  and  faithful,  as  well  as  a  most  attached, 
correspondent  in  Emily,  who  will  have  told  you  both  the 
wide  expanse  of  river,  mountain,  forest,  and  plain  which 
I  have  since  been  travelling,  her  own  still  more  romantic 
and  perilous  situation  during  the  mutiny  at  Barrackpore, 
and,  (as  I  believe  she  has  written  since  her  arrival  here) 
the  long  voyage  of  six  weeks  which  she  made  to  rejoin 
me  round  the  whole  southern  half  of  India.  We  have 
since  had  a  little  experience  of  camp-life  together ;  and 
it  gave  me  pleasure  to  find  that,  though  the  weather, 
even  on  the  hills,  is  too  hot  at  present  for  a  long  con- 
tinuance under  canvas,  she  is  likely  to  enjoy  a  marching 
life  as  much  as  I  do.     For  myself,  — 

'My  tent  on  shore,  my  pinnace  on  the  sea, 
Are  more  than  cities  or  serais  to  me.'  — 

So  far  as  enjoyment  only  is  concerned,  I  know  nothing 
more  agreeable  than  the  continual  change  of  scene  and 
air,  the  exercise,  the  good  hours,  the  good  appetite,  the 
temperance,  and  the  freedom  from  the  forms  and  visiting 
of  a  city  life  to  which  we  are  enabled  or  compelled  by  a  long 
march,  encamping  daily  with  our  little  caravan  through 
even  a  moderately  interesting  country,  nor,  except  during 
the  intense  heat  and  the  annual  deluge  of  rain  (which, 
by  the  way,  it  must  be  owned,  occupies  one-half  of  our 
tropical  calendar),  I  should  desire  no  other  than  a 
canvas  roof  during  the  rest  of  my  abode  in  India.  Many 
indeed  as  the  discomforts  and  dangers  of  India  are 
(and  surely  there  are  few  lands  on  earth  where  death  so 
daily  and  hourly  knocks  at  our  doors,  or  where  men  have 
so  constant  warning  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness  to 
meet  their  Maker),  and  much  as,  I  cannot  help  feeling, 
I  sacrificed  in  coming  hither,  I  have  never  yet  repented 
my  determination,  or  have  ceased  to  be  thankful  to  God 
3  d 


50  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

for  the  varied  interest,  the  amalgamated  knowledge,  and, 
I  hope  and  think,  the  augmented  means  of  usefulness 
which  this  new  world  has  supplied  to  me.  I  have,  in- 
deed, abundant  reasons  for  thankfulness  in  the  preserva- 
tions which  my  wife  and  children  have  met  with  amid 
all  the  dangers  of  unhealthy  climates,  wide  wanderings 
by  land  and  sea,  and  the  incidental  dangers  and  difficul- 
ties of  political  disturbance  (in  my  wife's  case  even  at 
her  own  door),  and  in  mine,  during  my  progress  through 
countries  which  are  never,  according  to  European  ideas, 
settled  or  tranquil.  Still  more  ought  I  to  be  thankful 
for  the  support  and  encouragement  which  I  am  receiving 
from  almost  all  classes  of  men  in  my  attempts  to  dis- 
charge my  duty.  And,  after  all,  India,  in  itself,  taking 
one  province  with  another,  is  really  a  noble  field  either 
of  duty  or  speculation,  abounding  in  every  thing  which 
can  interest  either  an  artist,  an  antiquarian,  a  lover  of 
the  picturesque  and  romantic  beauty,  or  a  curious  ob- 
server of  human  life,  both  in  their  most  refined  and  their 
simplest  dresses.  I  have  often  thought  how  Edward 
Stanley  would  be  at  home  here,  and  how  rich  a  portfolio 
he  would  have  acquired  in  such  a  journey  as  I  have  been 
making,  from  the  wild  and  naked  Bheel,  with  his  bow 
and  arrows  of  bamboo  and  his  kennel  (for  his  house  de- 
serves no  better  name)  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the  jungle, 
to  the  splendidly  equipped  Patan,  with  his  bright  chain- 
mail,  his  silver  studded  lance,  his  shield  of  rhinoceros 
hide  as  transparent  as  amber,  and  the  trappings  of  silk, 
silver,  and  brocade  which  almost  sweep  the  ground  as 
he  passes  on  his  beautiful  charger.  Either  of  these 
would  make,  as  you  may  well  believe,  a  spirited  pict- 
ure ;  nor  might  less  striking  sketches  be  made  from  the 
courts  and  processions  of  the  native  princes,  with  all 


CHANGES.  5 1 

which  noise,  bustle,  banners,  elephants,  and  horsemen 
can  give  of  magnificence,  or  from  the  totally  different 
ostentation  of  the  more  austere  Brahmins  and  religious 
mendicants.  You  may  conceive  the  former  of  these, 
with  their  heads  close  shaven,  their  naked  bodies  cov- 
ered with  chalk  and  cowdung,  a  white  cloth  round  their 
waists,  and  their  countenances  composed  into  a  studied 
calmness,  the  meekness  and  abstraction  of  which  is 
sometimes  singularly  contrasted  with  the  steady,  watch- 
ful, crafty,  glittering  eye  which  seems  to  look  into  those 
its  owner  speaks  with ;  the  latter  mad,  filthy,  hideous, 
his  hair  and  his  beard  full  of  ashes,  his  garment  a 
tiger's  skin,  his  limbs  distorted  and  his  body  scarred 
with  the  effects  of  his  voluntary  austerities,  his  eyes 
inflamed  with  spiritual  pride  and  intoxicating  drugs,  and 
his  whole  mind  and  body  wilfully  lowered  to  the  level  of 
the  wild  animals  among  whom  he  chiefly  affects  to  have 
his  habitation.  Add  to  all  this  a  very  rich  and  luxuri- 
ant scenery,  a  sky  which  gives  to  every  object  a  glow 
beyond  any  thing  seen  in  the  old  Italian  paintings,  and 
(in  some  of  the  older  and  more  renowned  cities)  build- 
ings which  in  beauty  of  material  (white  marble)  far 
surpass,  and  in  grace  and  majesty  bear  no  unfavorable 
comparison  with,  our  finest  Gothic  architecture.  Such 
is  India;  and  such  a  country  is  doubtless  well  worth 
visiting,  even  if  one  had  no  stronger  motives  than  curi- 
osity in  coming  hither.  Yet  I  own  there  are  times  when, 
though  I  do  not  repent,  I  cannot  help  being  melancholy ; 
and  it  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  advantages  for  which  I 
ought  to  be  thankful,  that  I  have  too  much  and  too  con- 
stant employment  on  my  hands  to  have  much  leisure 
for  indulging  gloomy  thoughts.  You  are  probably 
aware  that  I  had  an  opportunity  of  visiting  the  moun- 


52  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

tains  which  form  the  first  stay  and  outwork  of  the 
Himalaya.  The  season,  however,  was  too  far  advanced 
and  my  time  too  limited  to  allow  of  my  penetrating 
more  than  five  days'  journey  from  the  plains  of  Hin- 
doostan,  or  to  climb  to  a  greater  height  than  about  nine 
thousand  feet,  where  Merdideer  lay  before  me  at  about 
forty  miles  direct  distance,  and  above  sixteen  thou- 
sand feet  higher  still.  It  was  tantalizing  to  turn  back 
at  such  a  time ;  but  even  thus  far  the  scenery  which 
I  passed  through  not  only  surpassed  all  which  I  had 
seen,  but  all  which  I  had  fancied  previously.  Adieu,, 
dear  Maria.  That  you  may  be  blessed  with  all  temporal 
and  eternal  happiness  is  the  earnest  wish  of  your  sincere 
and  affectionate  friend.  R.  Calcutta." 

« 

After  a  visit  to  Penrhos,  Maria  Leycester  re- 
turned with  the  Stanleys  to  Alderley,  in  order  to 
attend  the  marriage  of  her  friend,  Isabella  Stan- 
ley, with  Captain  Parry.  In  June,  she  went  for 
three  weeks  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and*thence  to 
Paris  with  her  father  and  Mrs.  Oswald  Leycester, 
returning  to  Sheen  for  the  christening  of  her 
brother's  eldest  son.  One  of  her  great  interests 
this  year  was  in  the  publication  of  the  "  Guesses 
at  Truth,"  by  the  two  brothers,  Augustus  and 
Julius  Hare.  As  their  "  minds  had  grown  up  to- 
gether, been  nourished  in  great  measure  by  the 
same  food,  sympathized  in  each  other's  affections 
and  aversions,  and  been  shaped  reciprocally  by  the 
assimilating  influences  of  brotherly  communion,  a 
family  likeness  is  perceivable  throughout  the  vol- 
umes, although  perhaps  with  such  differences  as  it 


CHANGES.  53 

is  not  displeasing  to  behold  in  the  children  of  the 
same  parents."  * 

Augustus  Hare,  who  was  to  pass  the  next  winter 
in  Italy,  spent  two  days  at  Sheen  while  the  Ley- 
cesters  were  there  ;  and,  as  they  returned  to  Stoke, 
they  passed  through  Oxford,  and  visited  him  at 
New  College. 

Maria  Leycester's  Journal. 

"Stoke,  August  1 6.  —  I  feel  now  a  glow  of  inward 
happiness  which  I  have  long  been  without,  and  whether 
I  contemplate  the  beauty  of  the  world  around  me,  or 
turn  inward  and  dwell  on  the  beauty  of  feeling,  and  the 
many  sources  of  gratification  it  has  given  me,  my  heart 
swells  with  gratitude  for  such  enjoyment.  Secure  of  the 
affection  of  Augustus,  I  feel  no  longer  a  blank  in  life, 
and  every  thing  takes  a  new  and  brighter  coloring. 

"  Oct.  28. — The  more  we  advance  in  Christian 
knowledge,  the  narrower  seems  the  way :  so  many  dif- 
ficulties seem  to  start  up,  so  many  trials  to  arise,  of 
which  we  have  lived  unconscious  before,  and  the  self- 
humbling  nature  of  all  real  inquiry  into  ourselves  leaves 
an  almost  discouraging  sense  of  how  much  there  is  yet 
to  be  done.  We  are  too  apt  to  compare  ourselves  with 
others  as  imperfect  and  perhaps  more  erring,  instead  of 
seeing  how  far  below  the  Gospel  we  fall,  or  how  inferior 
we  are  to  many  who  have  so  much  more  to  struggle 
with  than  we  have ;  in  short,  if  there  be  a  way  in  which 
it  is  possible  to  deceive  our  own  hearts  into  the  belief 
that  we  are  better  than  others,  or  that  we  have  excuses 
for  not  being  so,  we  instantly  adopt  it.  Surely,  of  all 
the  Christian  graces,  that  charity,  which  vaunteth  not 

*  Preface  to  the  "Guesses." 


54  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET  LIFE. 

itself,  is  not  puffed  up,  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly, 
beareth  and  endureth  all  things,  is  the  most  hard  to 
attain.  I  daily  feel  it  so.  It  is  so  difficult  to  bear  with 
patience  and  allowance  the  faults  of  others.  It  is  very 
mistaken  to  think  that  the  great  occasions  of  life  only 
demand  religious  feeling  and  principle :  it  is  in  the 
every-day  petty  annoyances,  the  constant  call  upon  our 
charity,  forbearance,  and  meekness,  that  we  feel  the 
constant  want  of  some  stronger  and  more  powerful 
stimulant  than  the  feeling  of  the  moment,  to  smooth 
down  the  rubs  of  life  and  make  our  existence  one  of 
peace  and  happiness." 

"April  i,  1828.  —  As  I  search  deeper  into  things 
unseen  I  seem  to  gain  clearer  views  of  evangelical  truth, 
and  in  looking  back  I  see  how  little  my  former  ideas 
upon  the  subject  were  consistent  with  the  word  of  God 
itself.  For  this  increase  of  knowledge  I  feel  that  I  am 
chiefly  indebted  to  those  books  and  those  writers  usually 
stigmatized  as  Evangelical  and  Calvinistic.  I  cannot 
enter  into  the  (as  it  appears  to  me)  narrow  and  preju- 
diced feeling  which  would  at  once  discard  every 
book  in  which  there  were  expressed  any  opinions  differ- 
ing from  one's  own,  and  even  in  which  there  might  be 
mingled  expressions  at  variance  with  good  taste  and 
judgment.  Fallible  as  all  human  efforts  are,  we  must 
distinguish  in  every  thing  the  wheat  from  the  tares, 
and  though  I  may  not  agree  and  feel  on  many  points 
with  another,  I  can  benefit  by  and  admire  others  which 
he  perhaps  may  represent  in  a  more  striking  light  than 
many  a  less  earnest  and  zealous  author,  who  may  be 
free  from  objection  and  yet  may  be  far  less  useful.  The 
truth  is,  nothing  but  a  very  strong  feeling  of  religion  can 
inspire  such  language  as  shall  excite  interest  and  awaken 


CHANGES.  55 

attention  in  the  heart.  This  strong  feeling  is  usually- 
connected  with  a  strong  view  on  doctrinal  points,  but  it 
is  not  inseparable  from  some  of  them." 

Maria  Leycester's  Journal. 

"  Oct.  1 8.  — The  die  is  cast,  and  our  fate  is  decided. 
After  the  long  years  of  uncertainty  and  suspense  attend- 
ing every  future  prospect,  the  first  certainty  was  overpow- 
ering, —  the  first  certain  conviction  that  I  should  indeed 
become  the  wife  of  one  to  whom  every  warmest  affection 
is  now  given.  It  scarcely  yet  assumes  the  form  of  reality, 
nor  do  my  thoughts  accustom  themselves  without  sur- 
prise to  the  present  view  of  things.  The  break  through 
old  habits,  and  the  change  to  new,  must  be  felt  strongly 
whenever  it  comes,  and  I  feel  entering  so  completely 
upon  a  new  line  of  duties,  feelings,  and  occupations,  that 
I  rejoice  to  think  I  have  a  little  time  of  quiet  previously 
to  prepare  for  it.  How  my  heart  does  overflow  with 
gratitude  whenever  I  think  of  him,  —  of  his  deep  affec- 
tion, his  tender  feelings,  his  generous  and  disinterested 
nature  !  And  the  high  and  overrated  estimate  he  forms 
of  me,  I  begin  to  feel,  so  far  from  exciting  pride  or 
vanity,  tends  to  lower  and  depress  both  by  making  me 
feel  how  little  I  really  come  up  to  it,  and  how  earnestly 
I  must  strive  hereafter  not  to  disappoint  the  expectations 
he  has  formed  of  my  character.  His  standard  is  that  of 
Christian  feeling  and  action,  and  to  come  up  to  it  in 
every  daily  occurrence  of  life  will  require  that  watch- 
fulness which  must  not  slumber.  How  it  raises  and 
exalts  earthly  affection  when  it  is  joined  as  it  is  to  such 
entire  confidence  and  unity  of  feeling  on  every  subject, 
and  when  the  motive  is  so  much  the  same  !  Oh,  may  I 
be  enabled  to  fulfil  this  new  part  of  life  in  such  a  man- 


56  RECORDS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

ner  as  may  become  a  real  follower  of  Christ,  —  in  hum- 
bleness and  sincerity,  —  endeavoring  as  much  as  possible 
to  put  away  self  from  every  consideration,  laboring  for 
the  good  of  others,  submitting  without  a  murmur  to  their 
will,  and  seeking  so  to  temper  and  moderate  the  strong- 
est feelings  of  my  nature,  that  they  may  never  draw  me 
too  much  from  higher  thoughts,  making  me  love  the 
creature  more  than  the  Creator.  To  Him  may  I  show 
my  deep  and  fervent  gratitude  for  his  infinite  mercies  to 
me  by  making  his  word  the  guide  and  rule  of  every  ac- 
tion, and  striving  to  advance  each  day  in  holiness,  and 
in  love  and  charity  to  all  around  me.  How  wonderfully 
have  all  things  worked  together  for  my  good  ;  and  even 
those  things  which  seemed  the  most  bitter  to  endure, 
proved  the  means  of  my  ultimate  happiness  !  Most 
clearly  does  it  show  how  weak-sighted  and  fallacious 
are  our  judgments,  —  how  entirely  we  ought  to  trust  to 
that  power  which  overrules  every  thing  in  his  mercy  for 
our  real  good." 


v. 


WEST  WOODHAY. 

"Dans  Popinion  du  monde,  le  mariage,  comme  dans  la 
comedie,  finit  tout.  C'est  precisement  le  contraire  qui  est 
vrai :  il  commence  tout."  —  Madame  Swetchine. 

"Love  is  surely  a  questioning  of  God,  and  the  enjoyment 
in  it  is  an  answer  from  the  loving  God  himself."  —  Bettina 
to  Goethe. 

TUST  before  his  marriage,  the  small  New  College 
**  living  of  Alton-Barnes  in  Wiltshire  had  fallen 
to  Augustus  Hare  as  Fellow  of  his  college,  and  he 
had  accepted  it.  But  the  place  to  which  he  first 
took  his  bride  was  West  Woodhay,  near  Newbury 
in  Berkshire,  which  had  been  lent  to  him  for  the 
purpose  by  his  connection,  John  Sloper.*  It  is  a 
picturesque,  old-fashioned,  red-brick  manor-house, 
with  high  roofs  and  chimneys,  embosomed  among 
trees  ;  in  front  a  lawn,  backed  by  the  swelling 
downs  ;  and  at  one  side,  almost  close  to  the  house, 
the  little  church,  of  which  Mr.  Sloper  was  the 
rector.  A  more  desolate  place,  or  one  more  en- 
tirely  secluded    from    society,   could    scarcely   be 

*  Emilia  Shipley,  second  daughter  of  the  bishop,  married  W.  C. 
Sloper,  afterwards  of  Sundridge.     Mr.  Sloper  of  West  Woodhaj 
was  her  husband's  great-nephew. 
3* 


58  RECORDS    OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

imagined ;  and  Mary  Lea,  one  of  the  two  maids 
who  had  accompanied  Mrs.  A.  Hare  from  Stoke, 
and  who  had  already  entered  upon  those  loving 
and  devoted  ministrations  which  were  to  last  for 
her  whole  lifetime,  had  many  stories  to  tell  after- 
wards of  its  unearthly  occupants,  and  the  mysterious 
noises  which  were  heard  there  at  night.  But  M. 
H.  —  as  I  will  call,  during  this  period  of  her  life, 
her  who  has  been  the  sunshine  and  blessing  of  my 
own  existence,  as  she  was  of  that  of  an  earlier 
Augustus  Hare  —  was  very  happy  there,  and  ever 
after  remembered  the  place  with  a  tender  affection, 
The  family  history  at  this  time  is  best  told  by  ex- 
tracts from  the  letters  which  remain  :  — 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"  West  Woodhay  House,  June  5,  1829.  —  We  came 
through  the  park  at  Blenheim,  which  was  delicious  on 
such  a  day,  stopped  a  short  time  in  Oxford,  then  to 
Newbury  by  half-past  five,  and  then  came  on  here  seven 
miles  through  the  most  charming  woody  lanes.  You 
may  guess  the  delight  with  which  we  approached  our 
home,  and  found  ourselves  here.  It  is  the  perfection 
of  an  old  manor-house,  —  the  house  very  large,  which  in 
this  hot  weather  is  very  agreeable,  and  does  not  look 
waste  or  dreary  as  it  might  do  in  winter.  The  draw- 
ing-room where  I  now  write  is  a  capital  room,  very  well 
furnished,  with  three  windows  down  to  the  ground  open- 
ing on  a  long  lawn  running  up  to  the  hills,  with  trees  on 
each  side,  —  roses  clustering  in  at  the  windows,  and  all 
looking  so  retired,  I  should  almost  say  lonely.  Then 
there   is    a   very    nice    dining-room,    and    sitting-room 


WEST   WOODHAY.  59 

for  Augustus,  besides  a  great  hall,  and  small  library ; 
and  upstairs  my  room  is  magnificent,  and  there  is  a 
large  tapestried  chamber  with  family  pictures.  I  don't 
know  how  we  are  to  come  down  to  rectory  accommoda- 
tion afterwards.  It  seems  all  so  extraordinary  being 
here  alone,  so  completely  separated  from  every  thing  and 
everybody ;  and  you  would  have  laughed  to  see  me  this 
morning  with  my  two  servants,  making  out  to  the  best 
of  our  mutual  knowledge  or  ignorance  all  the  things  to 
be  sent  for,  there  being  nothing  except  what  has  been 
borrowed  from  the  farm-house  for  last  night  and  this 
morning.  Mr.  Sloper  comes  to  the  farm  to-morrow, 
which  is  very  well,  to  set  us  in  the  way  of  going  on. 

"  I  think  you  may  now  give  full  vent  to  your  fancy 
in  my  cause  without  much  fear  of  being  wrong.  All  you 
imagined  of  the  tenderness,  consideration,  and  perfect 
way  in  which  I  should  be  treated  falls  short  of  the 
reality.  When  I  am  with  Augustus  it  is  but  a  con- 
tinuance of  that  confidence  and  openness  which  has  so 
long  existed  between  us,  only  freed  from  any  doubts  or 
reserve  kept  up  as  long  as  we  were  in  an  ambiguous 
situation.  But  it  seems  very  odd  to  find  myself  so  com- 
pletely removed  from  all  my  own  family,  in  so  new  a 
place,  and  obliged  to  assume  the  office  of  mistress  of 
a  household  to  which  I  am  so  little  used.  I  could 
scarcely  think  of  any  of  you  without  tears  till  to-day, 
and  I  do  not  know  now  that  my  heart  is  not  very  full  in 
turning  to  those  I  have  left.  It  is  so  different  from  any 
other  parting.  He  understands  it  all  so  well,  but  says 
if  all  women  suffer  as  much  in  marrying  under  so  much 
less  favoring  circumstances  as  generally  are,  he  wonders 
they  ever  survive  it.  .  .  .  This  weather  is  perfectly  deli- 
cious.    Every  now  and  then  a  dream  comes  over  me  of 


60  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

Tuesday,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  was  now  in  another  state  of 
existence.  I  scarcely  know  yet  how  to  write  collectedly 
and  say  what  I  feel,  for  all  is  bewildering  to  me  at  pres- 
ent, especially  to  know  myself  in  that  situation  so  long 
uncertain,  doubtful,  and  distant,  now  really  come  to  pass 
in  the  most  beautiful  form  I  have  ever  pictured  it." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"  June  12,  1829.  — We  dine  at  five  o'clock,  and  walk 
afterwards.  You  cannot  imagine  any  thing  more  delight- 
ful than  these  fields  are,  —  so  very  extensive,  more  like 
a  park,  stretching  before  the  house  in  a  long  uninter- 
rupted surface  of  green  terminated  by  a  range  of  green 
hills  •  and  then  the  hawthorn  is  such  a  mass  of  snowy 
white,  that  it  quite  puts  to  shame  all  lanes  and  hedges 
with  you.  What  a  different  style  of  country  it  is,  to  be 
sure,  —  so  much  more  really  retired  and  country  it  looks 
than  the  north.  I  shall  try  the  pony  in  a  day  or  two 
with  him  walking  by  my  side  ;  he  thinks  it  will  not  run 
away.  Sometimes  he  reads  to  me  a  little,  and  any- 
body would  have  been  amused  to  see  him  one  evening 
reading  me  a  sermon  of  Skelton's,  '  How  to  be  happy, 
though  married.'  To-day  he  has  got  down  a  volume  of 
Rousseau  out  of  the  little  old  library  in  the  drawing- 
room,  and  has  read  me  some  of  the  letters  to  Julie, 
which  he  calls  eloquent  nonsense. 

"  June  13.  —  I  am  most  perfectly  happy  and  com- 
fortable. Last  night  we  had  a  delicious  walk  to  a 
farm-house  about  a  mile  off,  —  so  pretty  it  was,  covered 
with  roses  and  plants  all  over  the  outside  of  the  house, 
and  I  made  friends  with  the  mistress,  who  sent  me  a 
loaf  and  oven-cake  as  a  present.  Breakfast  over,  I  go 
to  the  kitchen,  inquire  into  matters  there,  scold  about 


WEST    WOODHAY.  6l 

the  bad  bread,  contrive  a  dinner  out  of  nothing,  find 
out  how  many  things  are  not  to  be  had  for  asking. 
*  No,  ma'am,  you  can't  have  that  because  there  is  not 
such  a  thing,'  is  my  general  answer.  Then  my  bonnet 
is  put  on,  and  we  sally  out  into  our  park,  find  out  new 
paths,  come  home,  '  Letters  and  butcher,'  and  so  there 
is  business  for  the  morning." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"  jfune  27.  — This  place  is  quite  what  I  have  so  often 
thought  the  first  home  ought  to  be,  and  what  it  so  sel- 
dom is  in  reality.  ...  I  delight  in  our  Sundays ;  the 
relief  it  is  to  cast  one's  self  upon  Him  who  will  be  with 
us  in  joy  as  in  sorrow,  and  upon  whom  we  may  repose 
with  sure  confidence  those  trembling  feelings  of  joy, 
whose  uncertainty  is  often  felt,  showing  us  the  need  of 
support  even  in  rejoicing.  I  longed  for  you  to  have 
been  here  last  Sunday  to  have  heard  my  husband  in  the 
church.  His  preaching  is  so  earnest,  and  brings  the 
subject  so  home,  that  I  cannot  but  feel  all  the  time  it 
must  be  doing  good,  and  if  his  peculiar  manner  has  the 
effect  of  rousing  attention,  it  is  certainly  useful.  Then 
he  cordially  unites  with  me  in  every  plan  of  considering 
the  good  of  our  little  household,  and  I  look  forward 
with  still  greater  pleasure  to  all  that  we  shall  join  in 
when  we  have  our  own  parish.  I  can  hardly  tell  which 
part  of  our  day  is  the  most  enjoyable ;  but  perhaps  our 
evening  walk  or  ride  is  the  most  so.  Do  not  you  know 
the  pleasure  of  hunting  about  in  a  library  full  of  odd 
volumes  and  old  editions  of  books,  all  mixed  in  strange 
confusion  ?  We  found  yesterday  an  old  '  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress,' with  queer  cuts  and  engravings,  which  was  amus- 
ing to  look  over.      He  is  reading  Milton  to  me,  and 


62  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

sometimes  Wordsworth,  and  any  thing  else  called  forth 
by  the  occasion.  Then  he  enjoys  a  little  song,  and  there 
is  a  very  tolerable  large  pianoforte  for  me  to  play  to 
him  upon." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"  West  Woodhay,  July  19. — You  may  guess  how 
impatient  I  am  to  hear  about  Alton-Barnes.  When 
once  settled,  I  think  I  shall  be  so  happy  I  shall  not 
know  what  to  do.  There  is  something  so  enlivening  in 
having  real  things  to  do,  and  I  shall  be  so  busy  in  making 
my  garden  and  every  thing  nice.  I  begin  to  feel  a  little 
more  naturalized,  and  less  as  in  a  dream. 

"  August  2.  —  Augustus  is  so  shocked  at  the  igno- 
rance of  the  people  here  who  have  come  to  him  about 
confirmation,  that  he  is  set  down  to  write  a  sermon  for 
them  this  evening.  I  therefore  will  sit  down  to  instruct 
you,  not  about  confirmation,  but  about  Alton-Barnes. 

"To  be  sure,  Woodhay  does  seem  a  paradise  on 
returning,  and  the  fine  space  and  breathing-room  is  so 
enjoyable !  But  comparisons  are  odious,  and  we  will 
forget  Woodhay,  whilst  I  tell  you  of  our  home  that  is  to 
be.  A  delightful  day  we  had  on  Friday.  The  drive 
through  Marlborough  Chase  —  Lord  Aylesbury's — was 
exquisite.  We  stopped  at  Marlborough  about  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  looking  at  household  furniture  to  be 
sold,  and  we  found  little  enough  to  wish  for.  About 
two  o'clock,  after  a  beautiful  drive  through  the  vale  of 
Pewsey,  we  arrived  at  Alton.  Could  we  have  stopped 
three  miles  on  this  side,  we  should  have  been  in  the 
prettiest,  most  delightful  country  I  ever  saw;  but  we 
are  just  a  little  too  far,  getting  too  much  upon  the  bar- 
ren chalk  downs.     Alton  itself  is  quite  an  oasis  in  the 


WEST  WOODHAY.  63 

desert,  —  a  hamlet,  with  much  wood  and  green  meadows, 
all  shut  into  a  small  compass,  backed  on  every  side  by 
the  green  hills,  which  are  more  broken  and  better  formed 
than  those  here,  and  in  a  drawing  I  daresay  would 
give  the  effect  of  being  in  a  fine  mountainous  country ! 
It  was  much  prettier  than  I  expected,  and  the  approach 
to  the  Rectory  agreeably  surprised  me.  It  is  red  brick, 
it  is  true,  and  the  door  is  in  the  middle,  with  little  win- 
dows on  each  side,  but  then  it  has  the  tint  of  old  age  ; 
the  front  is  nearly  covered  with  clematis  and  jessamine, 
and  the  little  green  sloping  terrace  and  shrubs  and  trees 
round  it,  though  rather  confined,  give  a  look  of  quiet 
and  retirement.  The  inside  was  much  what  I  expected, 
very  comfortable  as  to  the  number  of  rooms,  but  the 
size  being  fourteen  and  fifteen  feet  square,  and  low, 
seemed  very  confined  after  our  spacious  quarters  here ; 
and  then,  as  we  dined  eleven,  we  saw  them  to  the  great- 
est disadvantage.  The  study,  which  has  shelves  all 
round  and  cupboards  below,  looked  the  best ;  the  others 
scantily  furnished  and  wretched  ;  yet  I  could  not  help 
thinking  how  much  we  should  have  to  do  to  make  them 
even  as  full  as  they  are  now.  .  .  .  Miss  Crowe  took  me 
all  over  the  house  and  offices.  She  was,  I  suppose,  a 
little  shy,  and  I  felt  exceedingly  the  awkwardness  of 
the  situation,  coming  to  turn  out  these  people  who  had 
lived  there  eighteen  years,  and  were  much  attached  to 
the  place ;  so  that,  further  than  seeing  went,  I  made 
little  progress,  and  I  felt  quite  in  despair  how  to  set 
about  any  thing  further.  After  dinner  we  went  out  to 
the  church,  which  is  the  smallest  place  you  ever  saw,  with 
about  half  a  dozen  pews.  A  farm-house  close  to  it,  with 
the  prettiest  possible  flower-garden,  excited  my  envy. 
I  was  introduced  to  the  lady  of  it  and  her  daughters, 


64  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

who  are  of  quite  a  higher  order  than  our  farmers  in  the 
north.  Alton-Priors  is  quite  close,  and  the  church,  which 
I  wish  was  ours,  has  a  fine  old  tower  and  magnificent 
yew-tree.  I  settled  my  first  sketch  at  once.  Altogether 
it  is  certainly  very  pretty.  The  worst  part  is  the  roads, 
being  chalky,  and  in  winter  they  say  it  is  like  walking 
through  so  much  mortar,  no  stirring  without  pattens,  — 
old  Stoke  lanes  must  have  been  excellent  in  comparison. 
Next  morning  we  got  on  much  better.  Miss  Crowe 
began  to  find  out  my  ignorance,  and  to  offer  her  advice  ; 
and  with  much  kindness  set  to  work  helping  me  to  take 
dimensions  for  curtains,  carpets,  &c.  She  was,  I  am 
sure,  much  amused  by  my  ignorance,  and  Augustus's 
perfect  helplessness,  and  I  believe  she  pitied  me  greatly 
in  having  no  assistance  from  him,  but  *  settle  it  just  as 
you  please.' 

"  I  feel  no  doubt  we  shall  get  very  fond  of  the  place, 
and  that  Augustus  will  be  heartily  sorry  to  exchange  it 
for  Hurstmonceaux.  The  barrenness  of  the  downs  gives 
our  little  hamlet  quite  the  appearance  of  an  oasis  in 
a  desert,  and  there  is  something  especially  appropriate 
to  the  character  of  a  pastor  and  his  flock  in  the  having 
them  all  so  immediately  under  his  own  eye.  I  am  very 
happy  in  seeing,  by  the  experience  here,  how  much 
Augustus  makes  himself  beloved  by  the  poor  people, 
and  how  much  they  like  his  plain  and  homely  style  of 
teaching  them." 

Catharine  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  December  19.  —  On  Wednesday,  when  we  were  at  La- 
thom,  came  an  express  from  Knowsley,  saying  there  was 
to  be  a  railroad  exhibition  that  day  near  Prescot,  and 
the  Liverpool  tunnel  lighted  up  for  Lords  Harrowby 


WEST   WOODHAY.  65 

and  Sandon  next  day.  So  we  got  off  as  soon  as  we 
could,  and  drove  straight  to  the  railroad  at  Prescot,  and 
there  found  Charlotte  and  Penrhyn,  and  the  wonderful 
locomotive  engine  flying  past.  To  us,  who  have  no  turn 
for  these  things,  and  therefore  cannot  or  do  not  realize 
any  description,  the  seeing  them  comes  with  such  novelty 
and  force,  and  brings  such  a  train  of  new  thoughts,  — 
this  thing,  which  is  to  convey  carriages,  people,  goods, 
every  thing,  from  Liverpool  to  Manchester,  thirty  miles 
in  an  hour,  ruining  half  the  warehouses  at  Liverpool 
by  making  Manchester  into  a  seaport  town,  the  goods 
landed  at  the  docks  at  Liverpool  being  henceforth  trans- 
ported at  once  into  the  warehouses  at  Manchester  in  as 
short  a  time  as  they  now  take  in  being  carried  from  the 
lower  to  the  upper  part  of  the  town.  The  effect  of  the 
velocity  is  that  when  you  stand  on  the  railroad  and 
watch  the  machine  coming,  it  seems  not  to  approach, 
but  to  expand  into  size  and  distinctness  like  the  image 
in  a  phantasmagoria.  They  would  not  take  any  car  for 
passengers  that  day  as  it  was  a  newly  constructed  en- 
gine, and  they  were  only  trying ;  but  it  gave  one  a  sen- 
sation seeing  it  whiz  past.  The  next  day,  at  ten  o'clock, 
Penrhyn,  Edward,  Mr.  Stanley,  and  I  set  off  in  the 
Derby  coach  and  four  for  the  tunnel,  which  is  at  the 
end  of  the  aforesaid  railroad,  —  an  excavated  vault  of 
a  mile  and  a  quarter  under  the  town  of  Liverpool, 
coming  out  at  the  docks.  Lord  Harrowby  and  Lord 
Sandon  were  just  arrived,  with  Adam  Hodgson,  one  of 
the  directors  of  the  said  tunnel,  Scoresby  of  the  Arctic 
Regions,  James  Hornby,  —  altogether  about  twenty  of 
us.  We  went  first  to  see  the  carriages  in  preparation 
for  the  railroad.  I  had  no  idea  it  was  all  in  such  a 
state  of  forwardness.     They   are  like  the  omnibus,  a 


66  RECORDS   OF    A  QUIET  LIFE. 

coach  with  a  chariot  at  each  end,  some  fit  for  twenty, 
some  for  thirty  passengers  ;  also  cradles  for  pigs,  cattle, 
and  goods ;  and  platforms  with  railroad  wheels,  upon 
which  you  may  drive  your  carriage  and  horses  as  into 
a  steamboat,  stand  still,  and  be  transplanted  as  upon  the 
fairy  carpet  for  thirty  miles  while  your  horses  are  bait- 
ing, ready  to  drive  off  and  take  you  on,  and  making  a 
ferry  of  it!  They  are  now  thinking  of  continuing  the 
tunnel  under  the  Mersey,  so  as  to  supersede  the  real 
ferry  altogether  to  Seacumbe.  This  seen,  we  got  into  a 
kind  of  German  post-wagon,  —  all  twenty,  —  a  horse  can- 
tered with  us  up  the  little  tunnel  as  they  call  it,  and  then 
was  taken  off,  and  we  were  launched  into  the  great 
tunnel,  a  vaulted  passage  lighted  with  lamps  suspended 
from  the  centre  ;  a  slight  push  sent  us  off,  and  away  we 
started  at  the  rate  of  thirty  miles  an  hour,  our  speed  in- 
creasing as  we  went  on,  perceptible  only  from  the  strong 
current  of  air,  and  the  passing  the  lamps  so  rapidly.  I 
never  felt  so  strange,  so  much  in  a  state  of  magic,  of 
enchantment,  as  if  surrounded  by  new  powers  and  ca- 
pabilities. In  less  than  three  minutes  from  having 
entered  the  tunnel  in  the  country,  we  came  out  on  the 
other  side  of  Liverpool  at  the  docks.  The  first  effect 
of  daylight  was  beautiful,  and  of  finding  ourselves  we  did 
not  know  where,  after  the  rapid  motion,  bewildering. 
We  got  into  our  coach  again  grumbling  at  Macadam 
roads,  and  the  Derby  pace  of  ten  miles  an  hour,  —  Ed- 
ward lamenting  his  hard  fate  at  being  fifty  years  old 
at  the  beginning  of  such  things,  Mr.  Stanley  amus- 
ing in  his  speculations  as  to  the  effect  of  these  things 
in  various  directions.  I  tell  you  all  this  because  you  in 
the  South  must  be  in  a  state  of  comparative  behindness 
and  darkness,  and  you  will  hardly  believe,  as  I  did  not, 


WEST   WOODHAY.  6*J 

what  is  doing  till  I  had  seen  it.  I  dare  say  Augustus 
will  like  to  know  it  all.  Alas  !  at  this  moment  you  have 
not  him  to  turn  to,  —  not  that  I  pity  you  one  bit.  I  do 
enjoy  complete  solitude  and  freedom  so  much  myself, 
that,  though  you  have  a  great  privation  to  set  against  it, 
I  am  sure  you  have  a  sister  feeling  about  it." 


VI. 


HOME  PORTRAITURE. 

"  Nature  has  perfections,  in  order  to  show  that  she  is  the 
image  of  God ;  and  defects,  in  order  to  show  that  she  is 
only  His  image."  —  Pascal. 

r  I  ^HE  New  College  living  of  Alton-Barnes  which 
•*■  Augustus  Hare  had  accepted  was  perhaps 
the  most  primitive  village  in  Wiltshire.  Completely 
isolated  in  the  great  treeless  plain  of  corn  which 
occupies  the  Vale  of  Pewsey,  its  few  whitewashed 
mud  cottages,  their  roofs  thatched  with  straw  and 
sheltered  by  large  elm-trees,  are  grouped  around  an 
oasis  of  two  or  three  green  meadows,  in  one  of 
which  stands  the  tiny,  towerless  church  of  Alton- 
Barnes,  or  more  properly  Alton-Berners,  from  St. 
Bernard ;  and  in  the  field  adjoining  the  more  im- 
posing but  still  very  small  church  of  Alton-Priors, 
which  derives  its  name  from  a  small  monastic  in- 
stitution, of  which  no  relics  exist,  except  the  brass 
of  a  nun  in  its  pavement,  and  the  name  of  "  The 
Priory,"  by  which  a  rather  better  class  of  cottage 
close  by  is  dignified. 

An  antiquarian  might  find  much  to  interest  him 
in  the  peculiarities  of  the  surrounding  country.  The 
extreme  openness  of  the   Wiltshire  down  district 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  69 

causes  the  ancient  Saxon  landmarks  to  be  more 
visible  than  in  any  other  county  in  England.  For 
instance,  in  the  parish  of  Stanton,  whicl\  adjoins 
Alton,  all  the  boundaries  mentioned  in  Domesday 
Book  are  still  visible ;  such  as,  an  immense  thorn- 
tree  of  absolutely  immemorial  age,  on  the  exact 
spot  where  "  Anna's  Thorn  "  is  mentioned  ;  Anna's 
Crumble,  a  crumble  being  a  small  round  pool  for 
beasts  to  drink  out  of ;  and  Anna's  Well,  —  all 
these  names  referring  to  the  saint  under  whose 
protection  the  village  was  placed.  It  is  interesting, 
in  reference  to  these  ancient  boundaries,  to  read 
the  charter  which  mentions  them  to  any  old  shep- 
herd, and  tell  him  to  stop  you  if  he  hears  any  name 
he  knows  ;  and  this  is  the  best  means  of  verifying 
them. 

The  name  Alton  is  Saxon,  —  Ea-wal-ton,  "  the 
place  of  beautiful  springs,"  corrupted  to  Awltoun, 
hence  to  Alton.  The  place  is  spelt  Awltoun  in 
Domesday  Book.  There  are  still  five  springs  in 
Alton-Priors  ;  one  of  them  is  still  called  Bradwell, 
by  which  name  it  is  mentioned  in  Domesday  Book. 
The  exceeding  antiquity  of  the  little  church  of 
Alton-Barnes  is  attested  by  its  flat  buttresses,  re- 
futing the  village  tradition  that  the  church  was 
removed  to  its  present  site  from  Shaw,  a  farm  high 
up  on  the  side  of  the  downs.  That  which  was 
removed  from  Shaw,  where  a  chapel  certainly  ex- 
isted, was  probably  the  windows  of  the  church, 
which  are  of  much  later  date  than  the  rest  of  the 
building. 


7<D  RECORDS   OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

The  absolute  isolation  of  the  place,  without  any 
gentleman's  house  except  the  rectory,  without  any 
public-house,  with  scarcely  even  any  thing  which  can 
be  dignified  by  the  name  of  a  village-shop,  has  pre- 
served in  the  character  of  the  villagers  a  simplicity 
which  is  most  unusual ;  and,  though  rough  and 
very  ignorant,  their  straightforward,  free-spoken, 
grateful  dispositions  made  them  peculiarly  suscepti- 
ble to  the  kindness  they  received  from  their  new 
rector  and  his  wife,  and  to  the  interest  which  they 
knew  that  he  felt  in  them. 

My  dear  mother  has  herself  left  notes  referring 
to  her  husband's  ministerial  life,  which  I  will  now 
give  in  her  own  words. 

"An  artist  in  painting  a  portrait  finds  he  has 
done  little  towards  effecting  his  purpose  when  the 
features  are  drawn,  and  the  outline  completed. 
These  may  be  true  to  the  life,  and  yet  the  whole 
character  of  the  face  —  the  man  himself — may  be 
wanting.  It  is  a  rare  thing  for  a  painter  to  give  a 
likeness  that  is  satisfying  to  those  who  have  long 
been  familiar  with  a  face,  and  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  see  the  changes  and  variations  that  pass 
over  it  as  circumstances  draw  out  the  inward  feel- 
ing, to  those  who  have  almost  lost  sight  of  the 
outward  form  in  the  light  that  shines  forth  through 
it.  Now  is  it  less  difficult  to  portray  in  words  the 
peculiarities  and  beauties  of  a  living  character  ? 
Here  and  there  may  be  a  line  of  resemblance,  here 
and  there  a  trait  recalling  him  who  is  departed ; 
but  the  whole,  the  living  whole,  the  source  and 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  /I 

spring  of  all  the  separate  acts  and  words,  how 
can  this  be  manifested  ?  How  can  those  who  knew 
the  original  furnish  those  who  did  not  know  him 
with  any  thing  like  an  adequate  conception,  or  meet 
the  wishes  and  feelings  of  those  who  having  known, 
and  loved,  and  valued  the  living,  desire  to  have  the 
never-fading  recollection  in  their  own  minds  con- 
veyed to  others  ? 

"The  beginning  of  Augustus's  ministerial  ser- 
vices was  at  West  Woodhay.  The  three  months 
subsequent  to  his  marriage  were  spent  there,  and, 
in  the  absence  of  its  usual  minister,  he  performed 
the  service  of  the  church.  Hitherto  an  occasional 
sermon  in  a  friend's  church  had  been  the  extent  of 
his  experience  in  preaching,  and  of  the  people  he 
addressed  he  had  been  wholly  ignorant.  But  while 
at  Woodhay  the  examination  of  some  candidates 
for  confirmation  brought  to  his  knowledge  a  de- 
gree of  ignorance  on  the  part  both  of  young  and 
old  that  both  astonished  and  shocked  him.  It  was 
clear  that,  when  the  ground  was  so  little  prepared, 
the  seed  of  the  Word  read  and  preached  in  church, 
and  the  services  of  the  Liturgy,  could  profit  little. 
He  threw  aside  at  once  the  more  regular  form  of 
sermon  to  which  he,  had  been  accustomed,  and  wrote 
down  as  if  he  had  been  speaking,  and  in  the  plainest 
words,  such  simple  instruction  as  seemed  adapted  to 
the  wants  of  people  untaught  in  the  first  rudiments 
of  Christian  faith.  This  is  mentioned  here  because 
it  was  the  beginning  of  that  attempt  to  teach  the 
poor  in  a  way  they  could  understand  which  he  had 


72  RECORDS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 

so  earnestly  at  heart  during  his  stay  at  Alton,  and 
which,  both  in  his  intercourse  with  his  clerical 
brethren  and  in  his  own  family,  he  often  loved  to 
dwell  upon,  ever  noting  down  from  the  experience 
of  others  whatever  seemed  likely  to  effect  this  great 
object.  Having  lived  but  little  in  the  country,  and 
his  attention  having  been  engrossed  by  other  sub- 
jects, he  was,  from  education  and  habits  of  life, 
unacquainted  with  the  character  and  wants  of  the 
poor.  The  poverty  of  their  minds,  their  inability 
to  follow  a  train  of  reasoning,  their  prejudices  and 
superstitions,  were  quite  unknown  to  him.  All  the 
usual  hindrances  to  dealing  with  them,  that  are 
commonly  ascribed  to  a  college  life,  were  his  in  full 
force.  But  there  were  some  points  arising  out  of 
his  peculiar  character  and  tastes  that  lessened  the 
difficulty.  One  of  these  was  his  love  of  plain  and 
simple  Saxon  English,  his  dislike  of  every  thing  like 
what  is  called  'fine  writing,'  and  his  study  of  a 
rhetorical  and  forcible  manner  of  expression.  To 
those  who  look  upon  learning  and  scholarship  as 
identical  with  long  words  and  abstruse  thoughts,  it 
seemed  a  marvel  how  one  whose  knowledge  lay  so 
much  more  in  books  than  in  men,  whose  mind  was 
both  by  nature  and  culture  raised  above  the  com- 
mon standard,  could  'condescend  to  men  of  low 
estate/  and  clothe  his  thoughts  in  language  suited 
to  their  capacity.  But  this  mystery  found  its  key 
in  the  simplicity  which  belongs  to  the  substance  not 
the  shadow  of  learning,  and  in  the  delight  he  had 
ever  taken  in  pure  mother-English  freed  from  all 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  73 

the  foreign  innovations  that  modern  affectation  has 
introduced.  The  chief  means,  however,  by  which 
the  want  of  experience  and  knowledge  touching  the 
minds  and  habits  of  the  poor  was  overcome,  was  the 
love  he  felt  towards  all  his  fellow-creatures,  and  his 
sympathy  in  all  their  concerns.  In  earlier  days  this 
Christ-like  mind  had  manifested  itself  towards  his 
friends,  towards  servants,  towards  all  with  whom  he 
was  brought  into  contact.  It  now  taught  him  to 
talk  to  his  poor  parishioners  and  enter  into  their 
interests  with  the  feeling  of  a  father  and  a  friend. 
This  is  the  feature  in  his  character  on  which  the 
people  of  Alton  now  love  most  to  dwell  in  recollect- 
ing their  former  minister. 

"  From  the  circumstances  of  the  place,  it  neces- 
sarily happened  that  Augustus  could  not  leave  his 
own  house  to  go  abroad  without  passing  by  the 
cottages  of  the  greater  part  of  his  people ;  while 
they,  too,  were  constantly  reminded  of  him  and 
made  familiar  with  his  ordinary  habits  of  life  by 
their  close  neighborhood.  Many,  doubtless,  have 
watched  his  pacings  to  and  fro  on  the  little  garden 
terrace  near  the  house,  and  felt  a  grateful  love 
spring  up  in  their  hearts  as  they  thought  how  often 
the  meditations  there  indulged  were  directed  to 
their  profit. 

"  Nor  did  those  simple-minded  people  fail  to  look 
on  him  with  reverence  when,  seated  in  his  study  in 
the  midst  of  his  books,  they  beheld  the  sources 
whence  he  drew  so  much  of  knowledge  and  wisdom 
as  passed  their  understanding.     He  had  the  power 


74  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

of  throwing  himself  out  of  himself  into  the  feelings 
and  interests  of  others  ;  nor  did  he  less  draw  out 
their  sympathies  into  his  own,  and  make  them 
sharers  in  his  pleasures  and  his  concerns.  It  was 
not  only  the  condescension  of  a  superior  to  those 
over  whom  he  was  placed,  it  was  far  more  the 
mutual  interchange  of  feeling  of  one  who  loved  to 
forget  the  difference  of  station  to  which  each  was 
called,  and  to  bring  forward  the  brotherly  union  as 
members  of  one  family  in  Christ,  children  of  the 
same  Heavenly  Father,  in  which  blessed  equality 
all  distinctions  are  done  away.  Often  would  he  ask 
their  counsel  in  matters  of  which  he  was  ignorant, 
and  call  upon  their  sympathy  in  his  thankful  rejoic- 
ing. His  garden,  his  hay-field,  his  house,  were,  as 
it  were,  thrown  open  to  them,  as  he  made  them  par- 
takers of  his  enjoyment,  or  sought  for  their  assist- 
ance in  his  need.  And  when  any  cause  of  alarm 
to  his  property  occurred,  they  showed  how  fully 
they  had  unconsciously  imbibed  the  feeling  that  it 
was  theirs  too.  In  him  they  found  a  friend  ready 
to  listen  to  all  their  little  grievances,  and  prompt  to 
remedy  them  when  it  was  possible  to  do  so. 

"  His  exceeding  love  of  justice  and  hatred  of 
oppression  made  him  energetic  in  restoring  the 
rights  of  all  who  had  been  in  any  way  injured  ; 
while  his  respect  for  'the  powers  that  be'  —  his 
child-like  submission  to  authority  —  prevented  his 
sanctioning  for  a  moment  any  insubordination  of 
feeling,  or  undue  exaltation  of  the  lower  above  the 
higher  classes.     The  attempt  to  soften  the  hearts 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  75 

of  the  farmers  to  their  servants,  which  he  contin- 
ually labored  to  effect,  was  specially  needed  in  the 
winter  of  1830,  when  so  much  of  hostility  was  mani- 
fested between  the  two  orders  in  the  riots  that  took 
place.  He  then  showed  himself  foremost  in  defend- 
ing the  property  of  his  chief  farmer  in  the  formi- 
dable attack  made  upon  it,  and  at  the  risk  of  his 
personal  safety  addressed  the  rioters  to  try  to  avert 
the  destruction  they  were  bent  on.  Two  of  the 
most  furious  amongst  them  held  their  weapons 
over  his  head,  enraged  at  his  interference  with 
their  purpose,  and  they  were  withheld  from  offering 
him  violence  only  by  the  timely  interposition  of  a 
neighboring  farmer,  who  came  up  at  the  moment. 
In  consequence  of  his  thus  taking  part  with  the 
farmers,  the  rectory  was  threatened  with  an  attack. 
Before,  however,  the  threat  could  be  executed,  the 
heads  of  the  mob  were  taken  and  the  rest  dispersed. 
But  though  he  spared  no  pains  to  defend  his  neigh- 
bor and  to  detect  afterwards  the  unhappy  men 
who  had  wantonly  ravaged  his  house  and  maimed 
his  person,  when  the  prisoners  were  tried  at  Salis- 
bury and  evidence  was  wanting  to  convict  the  chief 
offender  of  the  full  crime  he  was  supposed  to  be 
guilty  of,  he  returned  home  rejoicing  in  the  beauty 
of  his  country's  laws,  which  administered  justice  so 
strictly  and  impartially,  and  inclined  to  the  side  of 
mercy  rather  than  of  punishment. 

"  One  instance  of  the  interest  he  took  in  the  wel- 
fare of  the  lowest  of  his  parishioners  occurred  in  a 
dispute  between  a  young  lad  and  his  master,  end- 


76  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

ing  in  a  slight  misdemeanor  on  the  part  of  the  boy, 
for  which  he  was  committed  to  gaol.  Having  in 
vain  tried  to  save  him  from  this  punishment,  which 
he  thought  too  severe  a  one,  he  sought  by  every 
means  in  his  power  to  turn  it  to  his  good,  and,  both 
by  writing  him  letters  while  in  prison  and  visiting 
him  there,  to  soften  his  heart,  and  bring  him  to  a 
right  sense  of  his  duty  to  God  and  man.  A  great 
change  has  since  taken  place  in  the  character  of 
this  young  man,  and  he  is  now  as  steady  and  seri- 
ously disposed  as  his  anxious  friend  desired  him  to 
become. 

"  It  was  a  favorite  saying  of  his,  *  We  must  get 
at  the  souls  of  the  poor  through  their  bodies  ; '  and, 
in  accordance  with  this  principle,  his  delight  in 
ministering  to  their  temporal  comfort  was  extreme. 
The  arrival  of  a  stock  of  clothing  for  the  poor  was 
an  event  of  such  rejoicing  that  all  who  were  in  the 
house  could  not  help  sharing  in  his  joy.  The  half- 
starved  peasant,  in  receiving  his  warm  jacket,  was 
less  glad  at  heart  in  his  new  possession  than  he 
who  was  thus  enabled  by  God  to  share  his  abun- 
dance with  those  who  needed  it.  Often  would  his 
heart  seem  full  to  overflowing  when,  at  a  feast  pre- 
pared for  the  old  men  and  women  among  his  flock, 
he  waited  on  them  himself,  and,  by  his  gentle  and 
loving  words,  gave  a  savor  to  their  food  which  it 
would  otherwise  have  wanted.  It  was  clearly  he 
who  felt  the  debt  of  gratitude  to  be  the  greatest  in 
being  permitted  to  give  to  the  least  of  his  brethren 
in  his  Master's  name.     But  the  lively  interest  he 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  77 

took  in  all  their  worldly  concerns  was  shown 
most  fully  when  visiting  the  allotments  which  he 
had  portioned  out  to  each  cottager  from  off  the 
glebe.  His  delight,  as  he  collected  these  his  ten- 
ants around  him  by  his  kitchen  fire,  and  consulted 
their  respective  inclinations  and  powers  of  cultivat- 
ing their  little  plots  of  ground,  according  to  the  size 
of  their  families,  was  very  great.  Nor  did  he  fail  to 
encourage  the  industrious  and  reprove  the  negligent 
husbandman,  in  such  a  manner  as  testified  how  truly 
their  gain  and  their  loss  was  his  also.  On  many  a 
summer's  evening,  when  the  laborer  after  his  day's 
work  repaired  to  his  allotted  garden,  would  his  kind 
friend  come  and  stand  by  and  watch  his  progress 
in  preparing  the  ground,  or  weeding  it,  or  sowing 
his  seed,  and  talk  over  the  various  crops  of  potatoes 
and  beans  or  barley  that  he  hoped  to  see  spring  up 
in  it,  and  this  in  so  friendly  and  playful  a  tone  as 
could  not  fail  to  win  all  hearts.* 

*  It  may  be  mentioned,  as  a  proof  rather  of  the 
prevailing  lack  of  Christian  feeling  which  may  truly 
1  set  one  mourning,'  than  of  any  remarkable  instance 
of  consideration  on  his  part,  that  a  laborer  who 
had  been  allowed  to  leave  his  work  and  was  sent 
home  to  attend   his  mother's  dying-bed,  without 

*  Another  method  by  which  Augustus  Hare  materially  assisted 
his  people  was  keeping  a  shop,  in  which  he  sold  at  two-thirds  of 
the  cost  price  all  kinds  of  clothing  and  materials  of  clothing.  The 
shop  was  held  in  the  rectory-barn  oqjjp  every  week,  when  Mrs. 
Hare  attended  and  measured  out  the  flannels,  fustian,  &c.  No 
amelioration  of  their  condition  was  ever  more  valued  by  the  peo- 
ple of  Alton  than  this. 


78  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

deducting  the  wages  due  to  him  had  he  continued 
at  work,  was  so  touched  by  this  little  attention  to 
his  feelings  that  he  still  speaks  of  it  with  tears  in 
his  eyes. 

"  But  though  the  temporal  good  and  comfort  of 
his  people  was  near  Augustus's  heart,  far  nearer 
was  their  spiritual  welfare.  On  his  first  coming  to 
Alton  the  greater  part  of  his  hearers  were  so  un- 
accustomed to  listen  to  instruction  or  to  follow  any 
arguments,  that  his  earnestness  in  the  cause  of  God 
was  the  chief  lesson  which  taught  them.  It  seemed 
to  be  the  prominent  impression  on  all,  whether  they 
understood  his  teaching  or  no,  whether  they  were 
disposed  to  profit  by  it  or  no,  '  Mr.  Hare  does  long 
to  save  our  souls.'  The  great  importance  he  at- 
tached to  their  serving  God,  and  the  high  standard 
of  Christian  life  he  set  before  them,  were  the  points 
that  chiefly  impressed  their  minds  in  the  beginning 
of  his  ministry  among  them,  and  it  seemed  to 
awaken  in  many  a  sense  of  their  own  shortcomings 
in  godliness.  As  he  became  more  intimate  with 
the  capacities  and  wants  of  his  people,  and  still  more 
in  proportion  as  his  own  spiritual  feelings  became 
fresher  and  purer  from  increased  experience  of  the 
truths  he  had  to  declare,  his  teaching  became  more 
adapted  to  the  congregation  before  him.  Human 
reasonings  gave  way  to  simpler  and  more  spiritual 
appeals  to  the  hearts  of  his  hearers,  and  the  people 
were  themselves  alive  to  the  change,  and  observed, 
'  how  our  minister  does  grow,'  and  that  *  he  went 
more  and  more  on  in  the  Scriptures.' 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  79 

"  It  was  in  the  winter  of  1830  that,  finding  how 
ignorant  they  were  of  the  meaning  of  what  they 
heard  in  church,  he  began  assembling  the  men  of 
both  parishes  once  a  week  in  a  barn  adjoining  the 
rectory.  One  of  the  Gospels,  or  the  Acts,  was 
then  gone  through,  and  explained  in  a  familiar  way, 
illustrated  so  as  to  bring  it  home  to  their  compre- 
hension, beginning  and  ending  with  a  short  prayer. 
Many  expressed  the  benefit  they  derived  from  this 
mode  of  teaching,  and  the  additional  interest  it 
gave  in  all  they  heard  in  church,  and  the  attendance 
there  was  much  increased  from  that  time.  He  took 
great  delight  in  thus  drawing  them  around  him,  and 
in  the  opportunity  it  afforded  of  speaking  to  them 
more  familiarly  and  directly  than  the  usual  services 
admitted  of.  Any  little  events  that  had  occurred 
in  the  parish,  any  misbehavior  or  misunderstand- 
ing, might  then  be  commented  on  or  set  right.  It 
was  one  of  his  constant  practices  to  seize  on  any 
passing  circumstance,  and  turn  it  to  profitable  ac- 
count. A  few  words  thus  spoken  in  season,  how 
good  are  they !  More  especially,  while  standing 
over  the  grave  of  one  newly  committed  to  the  dust, 
would  he  address  the  mourners  around  with  suit- 
able words  of  warning  and  consolation,  and,  while 
he  bid  them  not  sorrow  as  those  without  hope, 
exhort  them  to  lose  no  time  in  seeking  Him  who  is 
the  Resurrection  and  the  Life,  that  when  they  too 
must  lie  down  in  the  grave  they  might  lose  their 
life  only  to  find  it.  On  hearing  of  the  death  of  a 
man,  whose  sick-bed  he   had  seldom  quitted  for 


SO  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

some  days,  he  hastened  to  the  cottage  without  loss 
of  time.  '  Perhaps  in  the  first  moments  of  their 
affliction  I  may  be  able  to  say  something  to  the 
mother  and  her  children  that  may  touch  their 
hearts ; '  and  so,  collecting  them  around  him,  he 
sought  to  impress  on  them  the  warning  which  the 
father's  sudden  illness  and  death  had  spoken  to  all. 

"  The  misconduct  of  any  one  that  he  thought 
well  of  was  a  real  grief  to  him,  and  he  would  spare 
no  pains  to  bring  the  offender  back  to  the  right 
path  ;  and  his  joy  in  the  slightest  sign  of  amend- 
ment was  proportionally  great.  A  poor  woman 
once  mourning  over  the  ungodly  disposition  and 
behavior  of  her  only  son,  he  cheered  her  by  the 
story  of  Monica's  prayers  for  Augustine,  and  en- 
couraged her  to  pray  and  not  faint,  in  the  hope 
that  God  would  hear  her  prayers  and  be  pleased  to 
turn  his  heart.  Any  surly  or  ungracious  behavior 
towards  himself  was  at  all  times  a  stimulus  to 
show  a  more  than  usual  degree  of  loving-kindness, 
and  to  endeavor,  by  continuance  in  courteous 
words  and  deeds,  to  subdue  the  unkindly  and  harsh 
feeling.  In  a  road  along  which  he  frequently  passed 
there  was  a  workman  employed  in  its  repair,  who 
met  his  gentle  questions  and  observations  with 
gruff  answers  and  sour  looks.  But  as  day  after 
day  the  persevering  mildness  of  his  words  and 
manner  still  continued,  the  rugged  features  of  the 
man  gave  way,  and  his  tone  assumed  a  far  softer 
character. 

"The  one  pattern  ever  before  his  eyes  was  his 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  8 1 

Lord  and  Master  Jesus  Christ ;  the  first  question 
he  asked  himself,  *  What  would  Jesus  Christ  have  me 
to  do  ?  What  would  He  have  done  in  my  place  ? ' 
Receiving  once  an  almost  insulting  letter  from  a 
person  to  whoru  he  had  shown  great  kindness,  he 
sat  down  immediately  to  answer  it ;  and  when  the 
extreme  mildness  of  the  reply  was  objected  to,  as 
addressed  to  one  undeserving  of  such  forbearance 
and  meriting  rather  a  rebuke,  his  answer  was,  '  I 
am  not  aware  that  I  deserve  better  treatment  than 
my  Master  Jesus  Christ,  and  He  was  dealt  with 
more  roughly  than  I  am,'  or  words  to  this  effect. 

"  On  all  Saints  Days,  and  on  Wednesdays  and 
Fridays  in  Lent,  service  was  performed  in  church 
at  such  an  hour  as  might  best  suit  the  habits  of  the 
laboring  poor,  and  by  shortening  the  number  of 
prayers  it  was  brought  within  the  limits  of  time 
they  could  devote  to  such  a  purpose,  —  between 
their  return  home  for  dinner  at  eleven  o'clock  and 
the  going  back  to  their  work.  Those  who  could 
not  attend  he  exhorted  at  the  sound  of  the  church- 
bell  to  follow  George  Herbert's  rule,  and,  while  in 
the  field,  to  worship  their  God  in  heart  and  mind. 
On  these  occasions  he  was  wont  to  explain  the 
epistle  or  gospel,  and  in  a  few  words  to  give  such 
instruction  as  the  time  admitted  of  ;  and  his  people 
often  said  they  learnt  much  at  such  seasons.  In 
the  last  year  of  his  stay  at  Alton  he  also  adopted 
the  plan  on  a  Sunday  of  commenting  on  the  Old 
Testament  lesson  in  the  morning  service,  as  there 
was  then  commonly  no  sermon  except  in  the  after- 

4*  F 


82  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

noon ;  and  this  exposition  he  used  to  call  '  Pos- 
tilling.' 

"  From  his  first  coming  to  Alton-Barnes  it  was 
an  earnest  wish  of  his  heart  to  do  something  for 
the  neglected  people  of  Alton-Priors,  who  were  as 
sheep  having  no  shepherd.  Once  in  three  weeks 
only  did  a  clergyman  from  a  distance  come  to  per- 
form service  in  the  church,  and  in  the  intermediate 
time  no  notice  whatever  was  taken  of  any  of  the 
parishioners.  His  desire  was  to  have  had  the 
church  of  Alton-Priors,  which  was  very  much  out 
of  repair  and  the  larger  of  the  two,  fitted  up  so  as 
to  hold  the  joint  congregations  of  the  two  villages, 
and  to  have  had  the  two  parishes  united  in  one. 
But  this  could  not  be  effected  without  the  concur- 
rence of  the  proprietor,  and  the  passing  of  an  Act 
of  Parliament  for  the  purpose.  He  therefore  per- 
formed the  duty  alternately,  morning  and  evening, 
in  the  two  churches,  the  same  congregation  attend- 
ing in  both  ;  and  finding  the  church  in  Alton-Barnes 
too  small  to  contain  the  additional  number  who 
attended  from  Alton-Priors,  he  had  the  arch  com- 
municating with  the  chancel  considerably  widened, 
so  as  to  give  space  for  additional  pews,  and  admit 
those  who  sate  in  the  chancel  to  hear  and  see,  from 
which  they  were  before  shut  out.  For  the  equality 
shown  to  the  inhabitants  of  both  parishes,  in  this 
and  other  respects,  they  ever  expressed  the  most 
grateful  feeling. 

"  In  the  vale  of  Pewsey  the  parishes  are  nearly  all 
small  and  closely  adjoining  each  other,  and  as  every 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  83 

church  has  its  own  minister,  the  number  of  clergy 
is  proportionally  great.  It  seemed  desirable  that 
these  clerical  brethren  should  form  some  closer 
bond  of  union  than  the  common  mode  of  visiting 
presented,  and  meet  together  more  expressly  for 
purposes  connected  with  their  calling.  He  there- 
fore united  with  his  brother  clergy  in  forming  a 
clerical  society,  one  object  which  he  felt  to  be 
specially  needed  being  the  removal  of  prejudices 
and  lessening  of  party  feeling  in  the  minds  of  all 
towards  each  other,  and  the  enabling  those  who 
were  young  in  their  profession  to  benefit  by  the 
experience  of  their  elders.  Many  difficulties  arose 
from  the  difference  of  opinion  that  prevailed  among 
the  members  as  to  the  propriety  of  beginning  their 
meetings  with  prayer,  and  as  to  the  nature  of  that 
preparatory  prayer.  The  High  Churchmen  were, 
strongly  prejudiced  against  any  use  of  prayer  on 
such  occasions,  from  a  notion  of  its  likeness  to  dis- 
senting societies  ;  the  zealous  Evangelicals  urged 
the  advantages  of  extempore  prayer  as  fitted  for  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  the  time  or  place,  and 
they  resolutely  refused  to  agree  in  the  formation  of 
any  society  for  clerical  purposes  that  did  not  adopt 
some  form  of  worship  at  its  beginning.  The  middle 
course  that  Augustus  took  was  to  propose  the  selec- 
tion of  suitable  prayers  out  of  the  Liturgy,  alleging 
that  they  might  in  this  way  approach  as  nearly  as 
the  spirit  of  the  times  would  admit  of  to  the  habits 
of  the  olden  times,  when  divine  service  used  daily  to 
be  performed  in  the  church.     After  much  discus- 


84  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

sion,  and  the  lapse  of  a  year,  in  which  all  parties 
drew  nearer  together,  the  society  was  formed, 
chiefly  through  his  instrumentality,  upon  the  plan 
he  had  suggested,  and  it  has  since  continued  in 
brotherly  harmony.  On  this  and  other  occasions 
Augustus  would  often  say  his  was  '  Halfway 
House.'  There  were  few  things  which  made  him 
more  angry  than  to  hear  people  use  the  expression 
of  'going  too  far'  when  applied  to  religion.  '  Too 
far  !  when  shall  we  go  too  far  in  serving  and  lov- 
ing God,  in  being  made  like  Christ  ? '  Disliking 
all  illiberality  of  feeling,  he  was  more  particularly 
annoyed  by  it  when  expressed  towards  those  who, 
acting  from  religious  motives  or  scruples,  differed  in 
opinion  or  manner  of  life  from  others.  In  such 
cases  above  all  others  he  thought  the  motive  hal- 
lowed the  act  so  far  as  to  entitle  it  to  be  regarded 
with  respect  and  permitted  in  charity,  even  if  not 
altogether  consistent  with  the  strictest  judgment 
and  most  enlightened  wisdom. 

"In  earlier  years  he  had  been  ever  forward  to 
assert  the  cause  of  truth,  and  fight  manfully  under 
its  banner  whenever  he  thought  it  was  opposed  ; 
nor  was  he  slow  to  wield  his  sword  for  liberty  or 
justice.  In  truth,  he  seemed  to  be  the  champion 
of  righteousness  under  every  form,  and  in  society 
was  consequently  often  engaged  in  discussion  and 
argument.  From  the  active  spring  of  his  own  mind 
he  was  usually  foremost  in  stirring  up  conversation 
in  others,  and  drawing  out  their  thoughts  by  the 
vigor  of  his  own.      But  latterly  he  became  much 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  85 

more  reserved  and  silent  in  society.  This  arose 
partly  from  an  increasing  dislike  to  any  thing  like 
controversy,  and  from  the  consciousness  of  how 
much  his  own  opinions  differed  from  others.  On 
subjects  both  of  religion  and  politics,  there  was  in 
the  prevailing  mind  of  the  age,  so  much  in  the  one 
of  party  feeling  and  sectarian  spirit,  and  in  the 
other  so  little  of  enlarged  and  sound  wisdom  look- 
ing beyond  the  expediency  of  the  present  moment 
and  temporal  good,  that  he  found  it  difficult  to 
sympathize  in  the  views  of  many  whom  he  re- 
spected. 

"  While,  however,  he  censured  the  error  of  others, 
he  was  sure  to  spare  and  excuse  the  holder  of 
it.  In  points  of  personal  conduct,  too,  he  had  the 
rare  faculty  of  hating  the  sin  and  loving  the  sinner. 
His  charity  and  liberality  of  mind  was  not  the  kind- 
hearted  easiness  of  a  naturally  sweet  disposition, 
reluctant  to  find  fault  and  tolerant  of  evil.  In  him 
a  severe  love  of  truth  and  uprightness,  a  hatred  of 
all  iniquity,  was  blended  closely  with  his  feeling 
of  kindness  and  fear  of  giving  pain.  An  instance  of 
cruelty,  of  oppression,  or  of  falsehood,  would  make 
a  change  pass  over  his  countenance  ;  his  whole  soul 
seemed  to  revolt  at  the  mention  of  any  unkindness 
or  ungodliness  ;  and  if  in  any  case  an  opportunity 
occurred  where  he  could  hope  to  convince  any  one 
of  the  evil  of  his  way,  no  false  delicacy  to  the  person 
concerned,  nor  indulgence  to  his  own  feelings,  hin- 
dered him  from  speaking  the  whole  truth.  He  was 
ready  to  administer  the  stern  rebuke  no  less  than 


86  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

the  gentle  encouragement,  at  his  Master's  call.  But, 
in  speaking  about  others,  the  smallest  spark  of  good 
was  observed  and  dwelt  upon,  while  every  contrary 

.  principle  that  was  manifested  would  be  passed  over 
in  silence.     Even  in  speaking  of  those  with  whom 

,  he  was  most  nearly  connected,  not  a  word  of  blame 
would  ever  pass  his  lips.  Any  extenuation  of  miscon- 
duct that  could  be  urged,  any  allowances  that  could 
be  made,  were  brought  forward,  and  it  was  often  only 
by  the  joy  he  expressed  at  the  slightest  sign  of  im- 
provement, that  it  could  be  known  how  much  he  had 
felt  its  need,  and  how  earnestly  he  had  desired  it. 

•  Not  more  than  others  I  deserve, 
Yet  God  hath  given  me  more,' 

were  words  that  expressed  not  only  his  feelings  on 
one  particular  occasion,  but  the  prevailing  disposi- 
tion of  his  mind.  Continual  expressions  of  thank- 
fulness would  burst  from  his  lips,  not  as  mere  words 
denoting,  as  they  often  do,  only  a  feeling  of  satis- 
faction in  the  blessings  he  was  enjoying,  but  they 
were  the  outpourings  of  a  heart  full  of  thankful  love 
to  Him  who  bestowed  the  blessings,  to  the  Giver 
not  only  of  the  great  gifts,  but  of  every  little  daily 
comfort  of  life ;  and  this,  his  gratitude,  sprang  up 
from  the  deepest  sense  of  his  own  unworthiness  of 
such  mercies. 

"  Perfect  contentedness  with  what  was  appointed 
for  him,  and  deep  thankfulness  for  all  the  good 
things  given  him,  marked  his  whole  being.  In 
deciding  what  should  be  done,  or  where  he  should 
go,  or  how  he  should  act,  the  question"  of  how  far  it 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  8? 

might  suit  his  own  convenience,  or  be  agreeable 
to  his  own  feelings,  was  kept  entirely  in  the  back- 
ground till  all  other  claims  were  satisfied.  It  was 
not  apparently  at  the  dictate  of  duty  and  reason 
that  these  thoughts  were  suppressed  and  made 
secondary ;  it  seemed  to  be  the  first,  the  natural 
feeling  in  him,  to  seek  first  the  things  of  others  and 
to  do  the  will  of  God,  and  to  look  at  his  own  inter- 
est in  the  matter  as  having  comparatively  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  And  so  great  a  dread  had  he  of 
being  led  to  any  selfish  or  interested  views,  that  he 
would  find  consolation  in  having  no  family  to  in- 
clude in  the  consideration,  '  Had  I  had  children, 
I  might  have  fancied  it  an  excuse  for  worldly-mind- 
edness  and  covetousness.'  His  children  truly  were 
his  fellow-men,  those  who  were  partakers  of  the 
same  flesh  and  blood,  redeemed  by  the  same 
Saviour,  heirs  of  the  same  heavenly  inheritance. 
For  them  he  was  willing  to  spend  and  be  spent,  for 
them  he  was  covetous  of  all  the  good  that  might  be 
obtained.  A  friend,  on  looking  over  his  account- 
book,  and  seeing  how  comparatively  large  an 
amount  of  his  expenditure  had  been  directed  to  the 
benefit  of  others,  suggested  that  one  head  of  his 
yearly  summary  should  be  entitled  l  Public  Spirit.' 
He  was  never  weary  in  well-doing,  never  thought 
he  had  done  enough,  never  feared  doing  too  much. 
Those  small  things,  which  by  so  many  are  esteemed 
as  unnecessary,  as  not  worth  while,  these  were  the 
very  things  he  took  care  not  to  leave  undone.  It 
was  not  rendering  a  service  when  it  came  in  his 


88  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE.       - 

way,  when  it  occurred  in  the  natural  course  of 
things  that  he  should  do  it ;  it  was  going  out  of  the 
way  to  help  others,  taking  every  degree  of  trouble 
and  incurring  personal  inconvenience  for  the  sake 
of  doing  good,  of  giving  pleasure  even  in  slight 
things,  that  distinguished  his  benevolent  activity 
from  the  common  forms  of  it.  The  love  that  dwelt 
in  him  was  ready  to  be  poured  forth  on  whomsoever 
needed  it,  and,  being  a  free-will  offering,  it  looked 
for  no  return,  and  felt  no  obligation  conferred. 

"  In  society  he  did  not  choose  out  the  persons 
most  congenial  to  his  own  tastes  to  converse  with. 
If  there  was  any  one  more  dull  and  uninviting 
than  others,  he  would  direct  his  attention  to  that 
one,  and  while  he  raised  the  tone  of  conversation 
by  leading  such  persons  to  subjects  of  interest,  it 
was  done  in  so  gentle,  so  unobtrusive  a  manner, 
that  it  seemed  as  if  the  good  came  from  them,  and 
instead  of  being  repelled  and  disheartened  by  his 
superior  knowledge,  they  would  feel  encouraged  at 
finding  they  were  less  ignorant  than  they  had  sup- 
posed themselves  to  be.  How  often  has  the  stiff- 
ness, the  restraint  of  a  small  party  been  dispelled  by 
the  loving  manner  and  words  with  which  he  would 
seem  to  draw  all  together,  and  endeavor  to  elicit 
the  good  in  all  ;  and  though  by  nature  excitable, 
and  therefore  dependent  on  outward  circumstances 
more  than  many,  there  was  ever  an  inward  spring 
of  active  thought  which  made  his  conversation 
quite  as  lively  and  energetic,  when  alone  with  his 
family,  as  when  called  into  play  by  the  exertion  of 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  89 

entertaining  guests.  Yet,  although  he  enjoyed 
society,  he  liked  to  be  often  alone,  —  he  liked  to 
walk  alone,  to  be  in  his  study  alone.  There 
seemed  to  be  greater  freedom  for  his  mind  when 
thus  without  companions,  and  he  would  utter  aloud 
what  was  passing  in  his  mind,  or  the  words  he  was 
composing  for  his  sermons." 

The  portrait  which  the  loving  wife  began  to 
paint  breaks  off  here,  is  left  unfinished,  and  as  it 
was  left  by  her  hands,  so  must  it  remain  ;  no  one 
could  venture  to  retouch  it. 

Only  a  mile  from  Alton,  separated  from  it  by  the 
vast  undulation  of  treeless  corn-fields,  another  little 
village  called  Stanton  clusters  around  its  church 
and  a  few  elm-fringed  meadows.  Hither,  soon 
after  the  Hares  were  settled  at  Alton,  George  Ma- 
jendie  came  as  rector ;  and  the  two  clergymen 
were  soon  united  in  the  closest  and  most  affection- 
ate intimacy.  Scarcely  a  day  passed  without  their 
meeting. 

"  When  I  came  to  reside  in  Wiltshire,"  wrote  Mr. 
Majendie,  several  years  after,  "  I  found  that  Mr. 
Hare  was  my  nearest  clerical  neighbor.  I  was  not 
at  that  time  personally  acquainted  with  him,  but  I 
had  known  his  character  at  Oxford  as  a  man  of 
talent  and  of  considerable  literary  acquirements.  I 
soon  became  intimate  with  him,  and  then  found 
that  he  was  not  only  an  accomplished  scholar,  but 
that  his  heart  was  in  his  work  as  a  minister  of 
Christ,  and  that  he  had  truly  devoted  his  life  to 
the  care  of  •  those  few  sheep  in  the  wilderness  '  to 


90  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

whom  he  had  been  sent  as  a  shepherd.  Like 
George  Herbert,  he  '  knew  the  ways  of  learning,  but 
declined  them  for  the  service  of  his  master  Jesus.' 
He  was  not  only  ready  to  do  good  to  the  poor 
around  him  on  Christian  principle,  but  he  seemed 
to  identify  himself  with  them,  to  study  their  char- 
acters, to  enter  into  their  feelings,  —  literally,  'to 
weep  with  those  that  wept,  and  rejoice  with  those 
that  rejoiced.'  I  have  often  heard  him  express  his 
admiration  of  the  strength  and  fulness  of  their 
homely  phrases,  some  of  which  he  loved  to  intro- 
duce into  his  sermons. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  his  apearance  at  the  lectures 
he  used  to  give  to  poor  men  on  Wednesday  even- 
ings. The  place  was  a  small  barn  on  his  own  prem- 
ises, and  the  many  holes  in  the  boarding,  but  ill 
covered  with  sackcloth,  admitted  the  cold  air  freely. 
There  was  a  long  table  reaching  from  one  end  of 
the  room  to  the  other,  and  on  each  side  of  the 
table  sat  the  smock-frocked  audience,  most  of 
them  old  men,  each  of  those  that  could  read  with 
his  Bible  before  him.  Mr.  Hare  himself  stood  at 
the  head  of  the  table,  to  distribute  to  them  the 
bread  of  life.  His  great  coat  was  closely  buttoned 
up  to  the  chin,  and  a  large  woollen  wrapper  covered 
him  up  to  the  lower  lip.  His  tall  figure  was  erect, 
his  expressive  countenance  full  of  animation,  —  his 
face  and  figure  were  not  unlike  those  of  Mr.  Pitt. 
A  drawing-room  lamp,  strangely  in  contrast  with 
the  scene,  shed  a  strong  light  upon  the  wrinkled 
and  weather-beaten  faces  of  the  villagers. 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  9 1 

"When  Augustus  Hare  heard  of  any  kind  or 
noble  action  performed  by  another  person,  I  have 
seen  him  suddenly  start  up  from  his  chair,  with  a 
strong  exclamation  of  delight  uttered  in  his  shrill 
tone,  and  hurriedly  pace  the  room,  rubbing  his 
hands  with  glee.  He  really  felt  '  a  luxury  in  doing 
good.'  I  remember  being  present  at  a  supper  which 
he  gave  to  some  old  men  in  the  barn  already  men- 
tioned, where  he  assisted  in  waiting  on  the  poor 
people,  evidently  enjoying  the  repast  more  than 
those  who  partook  of  it  ;  and  when  the  entertain- 
ment was  over,  and  he  returned  to  his  own  fireside, 
his  first  act  was  to  run  up  to  Mrs.  Hare  and  kiss 
her,  with  an  ecstasy  of  benevolence  too  big  to  be 
repressed. 

"  He  seemed  always  to  think  all  others  better 
than  himself.  One  day  I  heard  him  speaking  of 
one  of  the  poor  men  of  his  parish,  and  I  asked 
whether  he  was  a  good  man.  '  Oh,  yes,  he  is  a 
good  man,  a  much  better  man  than  I  am.'  On 
another  occasion  I  remember  his  saying,  'What 
we  can  do  for  God  is  little  or  nothing,  but  we  must 
do  our  little  nothings  for  his  glory.' 

"  His  whole  religion  was  full  of  affection.  He 
was  not  a  mere  orthodox  divine,  defining  with  the 
closest  precision  the  doctrines  which  he  taught,  but 
every  doctrine  was  mixed  up  in  his  soul  with  love, — 
with  love  to  God  and  man.  It  may  be  said  of  his 
creed,  — 

'  Of  hope  and  virtue  and  affection  full.' 

I  well  remember  one  day  his  laying  his  hand  upon 


92  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

his  Bible,  and  saying,  with  an  indescribable  look  of 
reverence  and  delight,  '  Oh,  this  dear  book ! '  On 
another  occasion  he  spoke  of  it  as  *  God's  great 
Medicine  Book,  full  of  recipes  for  every  spiritual 
malady.' " 

After  Augustus  Hare  was  taken  from  among  his 
people,  one  of  the  residents  in  Alton-Priors  wrote : 
M  I  can  truly  say  that  the  glimpse  of  his  figure 
approaching  our  home  made  my  heart  leap  with  joy, 
and  never  did  he  leave  it  without  impressing  some 
valuable  truth  on  my  mind.  Living,  too,  as  I  did, 
in  a  parish  not  his  own,  but  one  to  which  he  vol- 
untarily and  gratuitously  gave  a  pastor's  care  and 
superintendence,  I  felt  doubly  grateful,  both  in  my 
own  behalf  and  that  of  my  fellow-parishioners  ;  and 
well  do  I  remember  on  one  occasion,  when  sitting 
alone  with  him  in  his  study,  the  striking  answer  he 
made  to  my  expression  of  thanks  for  his  kindness 
in  coming  daily  into  our  parish  to  spend  an  hour  by 
the  sick-bed  of  Charles  Gale,  a  poor  man,  who,  I 
believe,  through  his  instrumentality,  to  have  died  in 
peace  with  God  through  Christ :  '  God  has  given 
me  an  abundance,'  he  said,  '  of  which  I  deserve 
nothing,  and  doubtless  for  wise  reasons  has  with- 
held from  me  the  blessing  of  children  ;  and  if  I 
never  crossed  that  little  brook  which  separates  what 
you  call  your  parish  from  my  parish,  I  think  it  very 
likely  that  Jesus  Christ  would  say  to  me  in  the 
Last  Day  you  do  not  belong  to  my  parish! 

"  Amongst  others,  I  believe  that  he  was  the 
first  instrument  under  God  in  awakening  serious 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  93 

thoughts  for  her  soul  in  Jane  Jennings.  She  told  me 
that  that  which  first  made  her  feel  a  sorrow  for  sin 
was  a  sermon  which  he  preached  in  Alton-Priors 
church.  She  said,  ■  I  was  standing  by  the  door,  and  as 
he  was  earnestly  asking  us  what  we  came  to  church 
for,  —  whether  we  prayed  with  our  hearts,  whether 
we  prayed  at  home  and  with  our  families,  —  I  felt 
as  I  had  never  done  before,  and  when  I  went  home, 
where  I  never  prayed  at  all,  I  told  our  folks  I  was 
sure  we  were  living  in  a  very  different  way  to  what 
we  ought  to  live,  and  that  it  cut  me  to  the  heart  to 
see  our  minister  laboring  so  much  to  teach  us,  and 
that  we  paid  no  attention  to  his  words.'  And  then 
she  added, '  You  cannot  think  how  anxiously  I  looked 
through  the  sermon-books  afterwards,  to  see  if  that 
sermon  was  amongst  them,  and  when  I  found  it  I 
was  so  very  glad.'  She  also  told  me  that  soon  after 
this  Mr.  Hare  made  a  rule  that  before  the  baptism  of 
any  child  its  parents  should  go  to  him  for  advice  and 
instruction,  and  it  so  happened  that  Jane  and  her 
husband  were  the  first  summoned  for  this  purpose. 
She  said  she  had  never  before  dreaded  any  thing  so 
much  in  her  life,  having  been  told  by  her  neighbors 
she  would  be  puzzled  with  hard  questions.  Her  min- 
ister saw  by  her  trembling  how  frightened  she  was, 
and,  as  he  kindly  put  a  chair  for  her  in  the  study, 
said,  '  Don't  be  frightened,  or  think  I  keep  a  large 
dog  to  bark  and  jump  out  at  you.'  But  his  words 
afterwards  made  too  deep  an  impression  ever  to  be 
forgotten,  for,  turning  to  the  parents,  he  said  with 
much  solemnity,  '  Do  you  wish  your  child  to  be- 


94  RECORDS   OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

come  an  angel  in  heaven,  or  a  devil  in  hell?'  '  If 
I  were  going  to  give  your  child  a  large  present  in 
money,  say  twenty  pounds  perhaps,  you  would  be 
ready  and  willing  to  thank  me ;  how  much  more 
then  should  you  thank  God  for  allowing  you  to 
bring  your  child  to  the  font  at  baptism,  where  He 
promises  to  give  him  his  Holy  Spirit,  and  make 
him  happy  for  ever,  if  you  will  only  heartily  and 
earnestly  pray  for  his  blessing  !  After  these  words 
(which  first  awakened  in  the  mother's  heart  that 
feeling  of  responsibility  she  now  so  largely  pos- 
sesses for  her  children)  he  knelt  down  with  them, 
earnestly  praying  both  for  them  and  their  child, 
and  Jane  said  to  me,  *  God  knows,  and  at  the  Last 
Day  I  shall  know  too,  but.  I  always  think  that 
prayer  was  answered,  for  none  of  my  other  six 
children  ever  asked  me  the  questions  which  this 
little  boy  does, —  for  always,  when  I  have  him 
alone  with  me,  he  begins  talking  of  Jesus,  and  ask- 
ing what  he  must  do  to  please  Him,  and  when 
he  can  go  to  see  Him.' 

"  When  Prudence  Tasker,  who  had  been  one  of 
the  first  received  into  his  newly  formed  Sunday 
school,  was  seized  with  violent  illness,  how  ten- 
derly did  Mr.  Hare  daily  visit  her  dying-bed, 
obtaining  for  her  the  advice  of  an  eminent  physi- 
cian in  addition  to  that  of  the  village  doctor,  often 
himself  administering  her  medicines,  applying 
her  leeches  himself,  and  trying  to  overcome  the 
repugnance  she  felt  to  bleeding  by  telling  her  it 
was  her  *  pastor '  who  desired  it ;  and  how  often 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  95 

since  have  her  parents  dwelt  upon  the  prayers 
which  he  offered  up  in  that  little  chamber  of 
death ! 

"  I  remember  David  King  telling  me  once  that 
nothing  ever  'cut'  him  so  much  as  the  words 
which  Mr.  Hare  preached  after  his  recovery  from 
illness  ;  and  that  once  while  working  in  his  garden, 
his  minister,  whilst  talking  to  him,  in  order  to  illus- 
trate the  wonderful  love  of  Christ  in  taking  man's 
fallen  nature  upon  him,  asked  David  how  he  should 
like  to  become  a  toad,  convincing  him  thereby 
that  however  loathsome  such  a  change  would  be  to 
him,  yet  it  was  nothing  compared  to  that  which 
the  Son  of  God  underwent  when  He  laid  aside  his 
glory." 

Augustus  Hare  was  perhaps  the  first  village 
preacher  (there  have  been  many  since)  who  did 
not  scruple  in  his  sermons  to  speak  to  his  people 
in  the  familiar  language  of  ordinary  life,  and  who 
made  use  of  apt  illustrations  drawn  from  the  sim- 
ple surroundings  in  which  his  people  lived.  It  is 
probably  from  this  connection  with  outward  and 
tangible  things  that  so  many  of  his  words  still  live 
in  the  memories  of  his  congregation  as  vividly  as 
when  they  were  spoken.  The  following  are  in- 
stances of  this  practical  teaching :  — 

"The  road  of  life  is  not  a  turnpike  road.  It  is  a 
path  which  every  one  must  find  out  for  himself,  by  the 
help  of  such  directions  as  God  has  given  us  ;  and  there 
are  so  many  other  paths  crossing  the  true  one  in  all 
quarters,  and  the  wrong  paths  are  so  well  beaten,  and 


g6  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  true  path  in  places  is  so  faintly  marked,  so  many- 
persons  too  are  always  going  the  wrong  way,  and  so 
few  are  walking  straight  along  the  right,  that  between 
the  number  of  paths  to  puzzle  him,  and  the  number  of 
wrong  examples  to  lead  him  astray,  a  man,  if  he  does 
not  take  continual  heed,  is  in  great  danger  of  turning 
into  a  wrong  path,  almost  without  perceiving  it.  You 
know  how  hard  it  is  for  a  stranger  to  find  his  way  over 
the  downs,  especially  if  the  evening  is  dark  and  foggy. 
Yet  there  the  man  is  at  liberty  to  make  out  the  path  as 
well  as  he  can.  No  one  tries  to  mislead  him.  But  in  the 
paths  of  life  there  are  always  plenty  of  companions 
at  work  to  mislead  the  Christian,  to  say  nothing  of  his 
own  evil  passions  and  appetites,  which  all  pull  him  out 
of  the  way.  One  neighbor  says  to  him,  'Take  this 
road ;  it  is  almost  as  straight  as  the  other,  and  much 
pleasanter.'  Another  says,  'Take  this  road;  it  is  a 
short  cut,  and  will  save  you  a  world  of  trouble.'  A 
third  says,  'Walk  part  of  the  way  with  us  for  com- 
pany's sake  ;  you  cannot  be  far  wrong  if  you  keep 
with  us ;  at  worst,  it  is  only  crossing  back  into  your 
narrow  lonely  path  if  you  don't  like  our  way  after  try- 
ing it.'  A  fourth  cries  to  him,  'What  makes  you  so 
particular  ?  Do  you  fancy  you  know  the  road  to  heaven 
better  than  anybody  else  ?  We  are  all  going  there,  we 
hope,  as  well  as  you,  though  we  do  not  make  such 
a  fuss  about  it.  Is  it  a  wonder  that,  with  so  many  bad 
advisers  and  bad  examples  to  turn  him  astray,  with  so 
many  wrong  paths  to  puzzle  him,  with  so  many  evil 
passions  as  man  has  naturally  pulling  him  out  of  -the 
straight  and  narrow  path,  —  is  it  a  wonder,  I  say,  that, 
with  all  these  things  to  lead  them  wrong,  men  should 
so  often  go  wrong  ?     It  is  no  wonder  :  nay,  were  it  not 


HOME    PORTRAITURE.  97 

that  God's  Word  is  a  lantern  to  our  feet  and  a  light  to 
our  path,  —  were  it  not  for  the  Spirit  of  God  crying  to  us, 
*  This  is  the  right  way,'  when  we  turn  aside  to  the  right 
hand  or  to  the  left, — we  should  all  of  us  go  wrong 
always." 

"  If  a  man  had  to  receive  a  legacy  by  going  to  Bristol, 
what  good  would  it  do  him  to  set  out  on  his  way  thither 
unless  he  went  all  the  way  ?  Would  he  get  any  thing 
by  going  as  far  as  Melksham,  or  even  as  far  as  Bath, 
unless  he  went  still  further  ?  The  legacy  is  to  be  paid 
at  Bristol,  and  nowhere  else  ;  and  if  the  man  is  lazy  or 
fickle  enough  to  stop  before  he  gets  to  Bristol,  not  a 
sixpence  of  it  will  he  receive.  Therefore  we  must  per- 
severe unto  the  journey's  end  if  we  would  have  a  share 
in  Christ's  great  legacy." 

"Has  the  increase  of  Godliness  amongst  us  kept 
pace  with  the  increase  of  our  Bibles  ?  Are  we  as  much 
better  as  we  ought  to  be  with  our  more  abundant  means  ? 
Has  the  fresh  seed  scattered  over  the  land  produced  a 
proportionate  increase  in  the  harvest  ?  These  are  very  . 
important  questions.  For  if  the  Lord  of  the  farm,  if 
the  great  Sower,  does  not  see  the  promise  of  a  crop  in 
some  measure  answering  to  the  good  seed  He  has 
bestowed  on  the  land,  He  will  be  sure  to  ask,  *  Why  is 
this  ?  Did  I  not  sow  good  seed  in  the  fields  of  England  ? 
Then  how  come  they  to  be  so  full  of  tares,  so  full  of 
thistles,  so  full  of  poppies?  How  is  it  that  in  some 
parts  of  the  farm  I  even  see  the  foxglove  and  the  deadly 
nightshade  ?  Useless  weeds,  gaudy  weeds,  weeds  that 
overrun  the  ground,  even  poisonous  weeds,  I  see  in 
it  But  I  see  not  the  plenty  of  good  wheat  which  I 
5  g 


98  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

ought  to  find,   and  which  alone  can  be  stowed  in  my 
barn.     Why  has  the  crop  failed  so  shamefully  ? ' " 

"  How  often  do  we  see  the  sinner,  perched  on  the 
dunghill  of  his  vices,  clapping  his  wings  in  self-ap- 
plause, and  fancying  himself  a  much  grander  creature 
than  the  poor  Christian,  who  all  the  while  is  soaring  on 
high  like  a  lark,  and  mounting  on  his  way  to  heaven  ? " 

"  The  great  plenty  of  Bibles  and  Testaments  which 
God  has  given  us  in  this  land  makes  us,  I  fear,  more 
neglectful  than  we  ought  to  be  of  our  Prayer-books, 
especially  of  that  part  of  the  Prayer-book  which  contains 
the  Epistles  and  Gospels.  Now  this  is  just  the  same 
kind  of  mistake  as  if  a  man,  because  he  had  turnips 
and  potatoes  in  his  fields,  were  to  neglect  sowing  any 
in  his  garden.  The  turnips  and  potatoes  raised  in  gar- 
dens are  generally  of  a  choicer  kind.  So  it  is  with  the 
little  portions  of  the  Epistles  and  Gospels  which  are 
selected  to  be  read  in  the  Communion  Service.  They 
are  like  so  many  choice  plants  culled  out  of  the  New 
Testament  for  some  useful  lesson  of  doctrine  or  practice." 

"  Do  not  think  it  enough  if  you  learn  to  spell,  and 
to  read,  and  to  say  the  words  of  Scripture,  but  seek  to 
learn  the  truths  of  Scripture.  Do  as  the  bees  do.  A 
bee,  when  it  sees  a  flower,  does  not  fly  round  and  round 
it,  and  sip  it,  and  then  off  again,  like  the  foolish,  idle 
butterflies  ;  it  settles  on  the  flower  and  sucks  the  honey 
out  of  it.  So  should  you  when  you  come  to  one  of  the 
beautiful  parables  which  Jesus  spake,  or  to  one  of  the 
miracles  which  Jesus  did ;  you  should  do  as  the  bees 
do,  —  you  should  settle  your  thoughts  on  what  you  read, 
and  try  to  suck  the  honey  out  of  it.    But  why  do  I  speak 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  99 

of  the  parables  and  miracles  ?  Almost  every  verse  of 
the  New  testament  has  its  honey.  Almost  every  verse 
contains  a  spiritual  truth  fit  to  nourish  some  soul  or 
other." 

"  You  can  no  more  see  a  Christian  grow  than  you  can 
see  the  corn  grow.  But  you  can  all  see  whether  it  has 
grown  by  comparing  it  with  what  it  was  two  months 
back.  So  may  you  discover  whether  you  have  advanced 
in  grace." 

"  Every  thing  which  God  has  set  apart  in  any  way  for 
his  own  and  put  his  mark  on,  every  thing  which  in  any 
way  belongs  more  particularly  to  Him,  —  his  word,  his 
ordinances,  his  house,  his  people,  —  are  things  which 
God  has  cleansed,  therefore  we  must  not  call  them  com- 
mon. He  has  set  them  apart  for  his  own  service  ;  He 
has  fenced  them  off,  as  it  were,  from  the  waste  of  the 
world,  and  has  enclosed  them  for  his  own  use.  Hence 
there  is  the  same  sort  of  difference  between  them 
and  all  merely  worldly  and  common  things  as  there  is 
between  a  garden  and  Salisbury  Plain.  No  one  who 
knows  how  to  behave  himself  would  bring  a  horse  into 
a  garden,  or  walk  over  the  strawberry  beds,  or  trample 
down  the  flowers.  But  in  riding  from  here  to  Salisbury 
everybody  would  feel  himself  at  liberty,  while  crossing 
the  downs,  to  gallop  over  the  turf  at  pleasure.  Well,  the 
same  difference  which  there  is  between  common  down 
and  a  cultivated  garden,  the  same  is  there  also  between 
worldly  days,  worldly  books,  worldly  names,  worldly  peo- 
ple, and  God's  day,  God's  book,  God's  name,  and  God's 
people.  The  former  are  common,  and  may  be  treated 
as  such  ;  the  latter  are-  not  common,  because  God  has 
taken  them  to  Himself,  and  brought  them  within  the 


IOO  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

limits  of  his  sanctuary,  and  thrown  the  safeguard  of  his 
holiness  around  them." 

"  Many  of  you  can  lift  a  sack  of  wheat,  and  can  carry 
it  some  little  way.  But  think  of  being  condemned  to 
walk  from  here  to  Devizes,  or  rather  from  here  to  Bath, 
with  a  sack  of  wheat  on  your  shoulders  every  day  for  a 
month  together.  How  soon  would  the  stoutest  man 
among  you  break  down  under  such  a  load  !  He  might 
contrive  to  stagger  on  a  little  way,  but  his  strength  before 
long  would  fail  him,  and  if  he  did  not  drop  his  load  it 
would  crush  him.  Now  sin  —  when  a  man  is  in  his 
right  senses,  .when  he  knows  whither  he  ought  to  be 
going  —  is  a  weight  on  the  soul,  and  presses  it  down, 
just  as  a  weight  on  the  back  presses  down  the  body." 

"  The  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  altogether  a  prac- 
tical thing.  Just  consider  how  we  are  taught  any  thing 
else  that  is  practical.  It  is  not  by  hearing  or  reading 
about  making  shoes  that  a  man  becomes  a  shoemaker, 
but  by  trying  to  make  them." 

"  The  means,  the  exercises  appointed  by  our  Saviour 
whereby  we  are  to  become  holy  and  godly,  are  his  sacra- 
ments, prayers,  —  public  and  private,  —  and  the  read- 
ing and  teaching  of  his  holy  Word.  Still  the  means  are 
not  the  end ;  the  road  which  leads  to  London  is  not 
London." 

Nothing  seems  a  more  suitable  close  to  this  chap- 
ter of  general  reminiscences  of  Augustus  Hare's 
life  at  his  beloved  Alton  than  the  following  note, 
written  Feb.  19,  1832,  by  one  who  was  afterwards 
his  sister-in-law,  Lucy  A.  Hare  :  — 


HOME   PORTRAITURE.  IOI 

"  I  am  just  come  up  to  bed,  dearest  Mia,  and  it  comes 
into  my  mind  to  copy  for  you  first  a  passage  I  met  with 
in  a  sermon  of  Jeremy  Taylor's.  Every  Sunday  even 
ing  I  settle  myself  in  a  corner,  with  a  book,  trying  to 
shut  my  eyes  to  all  without.  Often  comes  a  short  di- 
gression, during  which  I  am  fancying  all  you  and  the 
Aug.  are  doing.  I  hear  you  sing  the  evening  hymn, 
kneel  with  you  to  prayers,  end  with  praying  God  to 
bless  you  both,  and  then  return  my  attention  to  the 
book.  This  evening  I  met  with  the  following  passage, 
and  send  it  you  privately,  thinking  that  you  may  per- 
haps find  as  good  a  likeness  for  it  in  somebody  living 
as  in  the  worthy  Knight,  Sir  G.  Dalstone :  — 

" '  For  God  was  pleased  to  invest  him  with  a  marvel- 
lous sweet  nature,  which  is  certainly  to  be  reckoned  as 
one  half  of  the  grace  of  God,  because  a  good  nature, 
being  the  relics  and  remains  of  that  shipwreck  which 
Adam  made,  is  the  proper  and  immediate  disposition  to 
holiness,  as  the  corruption  of  Adam  was  to  disobedience 
and  peevish  counsels.  A  good  nature  will  not  upbraid 
the  more  imperfect  person,  will  not  deride  the  ignorant, 
will  not  reproach  the  erring  man,  will  not  smite  sinners 
on  the  face,  will  not  despise  the  penitent.  A  good  nat- 
ure is  apt  to  forgive  injuries,  to  pity  the  miserable, 
to  rescue  the  oppressed,  to  make  every  one's  condition  as 
tolerable  as  he  can,  and  so  would  he  ;  for  as  when  good- 
nature is  heightened  by  the  grace  of  God,  that  which 
was  natural  becomes  now  spiritual,  so  these  actions  which 
were  pleasing  and  useful  to  men,  when  they  derive  from 
a  new  principle  of  grace,  they  become  pleasant  in  the 
eyes  of  God,  —  then  obedience  to  the  laws  is  Duty 
to  God,  Justice  is  Righteousness,  Bounty  becomes 
Graciousness,  and  Alms  is  Charity." 


VIL 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON. 

"The  happiest  periods  of  history  are  not  those  of  which 
we  hear  the  most :  in  the  same  manner  as  in  the  little  world 
of  man's  soul,  the  most  saintly  spirits  are  often  existing  in 
those  who  have  never  distinguished  themselves  as  authors, 
or  left  any  memorial  of  themselves  to  be  the  theme  of  the 
world's  talk,  but  who  have  led  an  interior  angelic  life,  hav- 
ing borne  their  sweet  blossoms  unseen,  like  the  young  lily 
in  a  sequestered  vale,  on  the  banks  of  a  limpid  stream."  — 
Broadstone  of  Honor. 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 
"  ALTON-BARNES,  Oct.  15,  1829.  — Are  you  not 
■**  impatient  to  hear  of  our  first  beginning?  We 
dined  at  Woodhay  at  one  o'clock,  and  left  it  immediately 
afterwards,  not  without  some  regret  after  the  many  happy 
days  we  have  spent  there.  At  half -past  five  we  landed  at 
our  own  door,  where  Mary's  smiling  face  was  ready  to 
greet  us.  You  have  already,  I  dare  say,  anticipated  what 
I  am  about  to  say,  —  that  we  found  ourselves  less  uncom- 
fortable than  we  expected.  The  carpets  were  laid  down, 
the  beds  put  up,  though,  to  be  sure,  there  were  neither 
bolsters  nor  pillows,  and  there  was  a  strong  smell  of 
paint ;  but  we  took  refuge  in  the  drawing-room,  where  it 
does  not  penetrate,  and  with  the  one  table  and  couple  of 
chairs  Miss  Crowe  left  us  we  managed  very  well.  These, 
with  the  piano,  were  our  sole  stock  of  furniture  till  to- 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  103 

day,  when  the  arrival  of  fourteen  packages  has  given  us 
a  day's  hard  work  in  the  barn,  the  result  of  which  is  that 
I  am  sitting  in  as  comfortable  a  drawing-room  as  I  could 
wish  to  see  or  sit  in. 

"To-day  has  been  beautiful,  and  before  we  began 
our  morning's  work  we  took  an  exploring  walk  and  after 
wading  through  a  bed  of  mortar  we  did  get  to  a  dry  walk 
up  the  downs.  Our  great  object  is  always  where  to  find 
a  place  tolerably  dry  for  our  walks,  and  our  first  errand 
to  Devizes  has  been  to  beg  the  shoemaker  to  come  and 
measure  us  for  waterproof  shoes.  In  spite,  however,  of 
its  wet,  Alton  looks  very  pretty, —  the  tints  of  the  trees  so 
rich,  with  the  background  of  the  hills, —  and  the  creepers 
in  front  of  the  house  cluster  in  at  the  windows  quite  after 
my  heart's  desire.  There  are  many  little  reforms  wanted 
in  the  way  of  making  bells  ring  and  windows  shut ;  but 
we  shall  not  do  any  thing  beyond  these  needful  things  at 
present.  Our  gardener's  name  is  Gideon,  and  his  dress 
a  brown  fur  cap,  a  short  drab  jacket,  and  blue  plush 
breeches  reaching  half-way  down  his  legs.  He  and  all 
the  people  here  talk  such  a  dialect,  I  can  hardly  under- 
stand them.  I  do  so  much  enjoy  the  uninterrupted  quiet, 
and  it  seems  as  if,  in  fact,  we  were  now  for  the  first  time 
really  married.  How  little  difference  much  or  little  money 
makes,  except  in  the  scale  of  things,  in  a  small  house ; 
we  are  so  much  more  amply  supplied  with  common 
comforts  than  many  people  are  in  large  ones." 

"Oct  20.  —  A  week  has  done  wonders.  The  bell- 
hangers  have  put  in  order  all  the  bells  and  locks,  chimney- 
sweepers have  done  their  work,  and  a  carpenter  has  filled 
up  the  holes  and  crevices  in  floors  and  wainscoting  which 
let  in  so  much  air.  You  are  quite  right  in  not  wasting  any 
compassion  upon  me ;  in  short,  could  you  see  me  in  the 


104  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

evening  reading  Coleridge's  *  Friend '  with  Augustus,  or 
playing  to  amuse  him,  or  watch  us  reading  over  some 
of  his  old  letters,  you  would  not  think  we  were  much 
harassed  by  business.  We  have  made  some  acquaint- 
ance in  the  parish  j  but  the  cottages  are  so  low  that  I 
fully  expect  every  time  that  Augustus  will  break  his  head 
against  the  beams.  A  school  is  a  matter  of  great  diffi- 
culty. Not  a  person  can  we  find  either  here  or  in  Great 
Alton,  as  they  call  Alton-Priors,  who  seems  fit  to  teach 
a  school,  and  the  way  in  which  the  great  girls  last  Sunday 
attempted  merely  a  spelling-book  lesson  was  lamentable. 
However,  they  are  all  eager  to  belong  to  '  Mrs.  Hare's 
school,'  and,  I  daresay,  we  shall  contrive  something  for 
them.  On  Sunday,  as  there  is  only  one  church-service, 
it  leaves  a  long  time  for  them ;  but  the  boys  even  on  that 
day  are  out  'shepherding.' 

"  We  never  think  or  speak  of  the  will,  or  any  thing  con- 
cerning it.  We  have  such  delightful  days ;  we  go  up 
'  Old  Adam '  daily,  the  view  is  so  beautiful,  the  air  so 
bracing.  We  shall  have  ten  times  more  pleasure  in  see- 
ing things  grow  before  our  eyes  into  comfort  than  if  we 
had  found  them  so.  We  are  going  to  visit  the  Miss 
Hares  at  Millard's  Hill,  and  I  already  hear  my  own 
laments  over  leaving  Alton." 

"Millar a? s  Hill,  Nov.  5. —  My  school  on  Sunday 
mounted  up  from  three  to  twenty-three,  and  some  very 
nice  girls,  and  all  seeming  very  happy  to  be  taught ;  so  I 
had  them  in  the  afternoon  in  the  usual  church  hours,  and 
made  the  bigger  girls  teach  the  little  ones  their  letters. 
One  of  them  is  called  Charity  Begood.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber any  other  events  before  I  left  our  dear  little  home.  I 
left  Mary  to  superintend  carpet-making  and  cleaning,  &c, 
and  also  not  to  shock  the  aunts  with  a  notion  of  my 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  105 

being  a  fine  lady.  It  is  a  very  pretty  drive  all  the  way 
here,  about  thirty  miles,  a  delightful  house,  capitally 
furnished  and  thoroughly  comfortable.  They  were  de- 
lighted to  see  us,  and  withal  are  so  kind-hearted  and 
easy  to  talk  to,  that  I  do  not  dislike  it  as  I  expected. 
Then  they  are  charmed  with  me,  because  I  always  like 
what  gives  least  trouble.  On  Tuesday  Aunt  Marianne 
took  me  on  horseback  to  Longleat,  a  magnificent  house 
and  beautiful  park.  Yesterday  we  went  in  their  carriage 
to  Frome,  where,  being  a  manufactory  of  cloth,  I  wished 
to  buy  a  winter  coat ;  they  directly  insisted  on  giving  me 
one  of  the  best  cloth.  In  the  evening  they  had  a  party, 
and  in  order  to  induce  two  of  the  guests  who  sang  well 
to  join,  I  sate  down  to  the  instrument,  and  was  so  nervous 
I  made  shocking  work  ;  however,  they  were  quite  satisfied 
with  my  readiness. 

"Alton,  Nov.  12.  —  You  may  guess  how  glad  we  were 
to  find  ourselves  back  in  our  own  little  home,  which 
looked  very  comfortable.  Every  day  something  new 
arises  wanting  repair  or  reform,  and  if  we  can  weather 
the  storm  of  all  the  bills  to  be  paid  we  shall  do  wonders. 
I  suppose  we  shall  manage  it ;  but  it  is  a  near  calculation 
of  comings-in  and  goings-out.  How  rich  we  shall  seem 
to  be  when  we  have  nothing  but  regular  housekeeping 
going  on !  .  .  .  The  days  seem  to  fly  so  quick.  The 
retirement  of  Stoke  was  nothing  to  this,  and  the  roads 
are  worse  than  ever.  I  suppose  we  shall  not  be  fit  com- 
pany for  anybody  when  we  emerge  into  the  world  ;  having 
no  new  book,  no  paper  but  a  country  one,  no  link  with 
the  outer  world  but  the  Athen<zum,  which,  they  say,  will 
soon  be  given  up,  we  shall  become  quite  rusticated. 
•  "Nov.  21.  —  It  is  always  easier  to  talk  to  a  person 
when  fresh  from  reading  their  letter,  and  so  I  will  begin 

5* 


106  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

my  letter  just  when  I  have  enjoyed  yours.  Many  little 
things  which  I  meant  to  say  escape  me  when  there  is  an 
accumulation  of  things  to  tell,  and  you  will  have  full 
as  much  interest  in  what  I  have  to  say  in  the  sameness 
of  our  present  life,  as  when  there  were  events  to  record. 
I  suppose  many  would  find  it  dull ;  to  me  it  certainly 
seems  less  so  than  any  part  of  my  life  ever  has  been,  the 
difference  being  that,  instead  of  looking  on  and  enduring 
the  present  in  expectation  of  what  is  to  come,  I  regret 
every  day  as  it  goes  by ;  but  then  of  course  all  depends 
upon  the  nature  of  one's  companion.  Now  the  activity 
of  mind  which  Augustus  has  prevents  the  stagnation 
which  in  us,  for  instance,  constant  living  together  pro- 
duces, so  that  there  seems  rather  an  increasing  stock  for 
conversation  than  a  lesser  one,  and  he  is  just  as  much 
excited  and  alive  when  there  is  nothing  exterior  to  furnish 
food  for  remark  as  in  society.  I  believe  there  is  a  book- 
club at  Devizes,  but  we  do  not  at  all  want  to  have  re- 
course to  it,  and  I  certainly  prefer  the  having  no  such 
temptation  to  idle  reading  at  present.  The  reading  a 
little  only  of  what  is  good,  and  that  with  great  attention, 
is  particularly  wholesome  for  me,  whose  habit  has  hitherto 
been  so  much  the  contrary,  and  who  from  indolence  have 
got  into  so  slovenly  a  way  of  understanding  things.  Our 
evening's  reading,  you  will  be  amused  to  hear,  is  some- 
times Cicero's  Orations,  in  which  I  look  over  as  he  trans- 
lates, and  shall  get  some  idea  of  Latin.  Coleridge's 
1  Friend '  is  our  general  book,  however,  which  is  hard  to 
understand  occasionally,  but  I  like  it  very  much  indeed. 
Then,  if  we  are  not  in  a  mood  for  such  serious  reading, 
Landor's  Dialogues  come  in,  of  which  I  have  not  heard 
half  yet.  Then  I  make  my  objections,  and  he  explain^. 
There  is  some  affectation  in  Landor's  style, —  he  leaves  a 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  107 

good  deal  to  the  imagination  to  supply,  —  and  it  requires 
some  attention  to  find  out  the  extreme  nicety  with  which, 
in  all  the  little  circumstances,  he  keeps  to  the  character 
of  the  age  and  speaker.  But  his  words  and  sentences 
are  beautiful  sometimes.  When  he  tells  a  thing,  he  keeps 
so  much  to  what  he  says  of  Demosthenes,  that  he  never 
dwells  upon  that  which  must  occur  to  the  reader  in  con- 
sequence of  what  has  already  been  said ;  and  this  gives 
great  strength  to  his  language,  which,  with  the  delicacy 
of  his  touches  of  feeling,  I  can  admire  greatly.  In  the 
morning  one  chapter  in  the  New  Testament  with  the 
Greek  translated  literally,  and  compared,  one  Gospel  with 
another,  with  references  to  commentaries,  takes  up  some 
time,  which,  with  a  walk,  reading,  and  talking  over  letters, 
lasts  us  generally  till  luncheon,  and  then  there  are  always 
orders  to  be  given  and  workmen  to  be  looked  after.  I 
have  many  schemes  of  improvement  in  the  flower-garden  ; 
and  into  the  kitchen-garden  I  go  with  my  head  full  of 
Mawe  — '  Ought  not  the  sea-kale  to  be  covered  up  ? '  — 
and  I  feel  much  ashamed  to  be  obliged  to  ask  the  names 
of  spinach,  and  endive,  and  celery,  and  to  be  told  this  is 
not  the  time  when  such  things  can  be  had.  We  persevere 
in  going  up  the  hill,  a  work  really  not  of  slight  difficulty 
in  these  frosty  days  when  the  ground  is  so  very  slippery, 
and  every  step  covers  one's  shoes  with  a  galosh  of  mortar. 
Many  new  air-holes  for  cold  wind  have  been  found  out 
in  the  last  few  days,  and  I  think,  like  all  small  and  old 
houses,  we  shall  find  our  rectory  very  cold. 

"  We  have  had  several  new  visitors,  and  the  consequen- 
tial manners  of  some  of  them  prepared  us  doubly  to 
appreciate  Colonel  Montagu  Wroughton  and  his  brother 
Captain  Montagu,  who  I  only  hope  were  as  much  pleased 
with  us  as  we  were  with  them. 


108  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

"Dec.  5.  —  At  this  moment  Augustus  is  writing  about 
God's  works  having  a  middle,  —  a  point  of  perfection ; 
about  Jesus  Christ  being  the  middle  of  the  world,  the  tree 
of  life  in  the  midst  of  the  garden.  He  always  puts  off 
his  sermon  till  Saturday,  that  it  may  not  take  up 
more  than  its  day ;  whereas,  if  he  began  on  Monday,  it 
would  go  on  all  the  week.  He  began  his  visiting  of  the 
sick  a  few  evenings  ago,  when  he  went  out  after  dinner 
to  read  prayers  by  a  sick  woman.  He  durst  not  tell  me 
till  he  came  back,  knowing  I  should  scold,  as  he  had 
only  just  recovered  from  his  cold ;  but  he  pleaded  that 
this  would  have  been  no  reason  against  going  out  on  the 
devil's  work,  and  that  he  could  not  eat  his  dinner  from 
hearing  of  her  illness,  and  thinking  that  he  had  not  been 
to  her." 

In  December  Augustus  Hare  left  his  wife  and 
parish  for  a  short  time  to  visit  his  brother  Julius  at 
Cambridge,  the  great  object  of  his  journey  being 
that  he  might  fulfil  his  aunt's  dying  wish  in  per- 
suading his  brother  to  break  off  his  engagement 
to  his  cousin,  Anna  Maria  Dashwood,  which  she 
had  strong  reasons  for  disapproving.  These  rea- 
sons Augustus  affectionately  and  firmly  urged  to 
Julius,  and  though  he  received  his  arguments  with 
great  indignation  at  first,  he  was  eventually  con- 
vinced of  their  justice,  and  the  engagement  was 
ultimately  broken  off,  though  Julius  always  con- 
tinued to  be  the  most  faithful  and  trusted  friend 
of  his  cousin.  How  bitter  a  sacrifice  his  renun- 
ciation of  this  marriage  was  to  him  is  told  by  his 
letters  written  at  this  time.     On  that  very  day  he 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  IO9 

was  preaching  upon  "The  Law  of  Self-Sacrifice," 
before  the  University.  Here  is  the  grand  conclud- 
ing passage  of  the  sermon  :  — 

"  We  have  seen  that  through  every  order  of  beings,  in 
things  inanimate  and  things  animate,  in  the  natural  and 
in  the  spiritual  world,  in  earth  and  in  heaven,  the  law 
of  self-sacrifice  prevails.  Everywhere  the  birth  of  the 
spiritual  requires  the  death  of  the  carnal.  Everywhere 
the  husk  must  drop  away,  in  order  that  the  germ  may 
spring  out  of  it.  Everywhere,  according  to  our  Lord's 
declaration,  that  which  would  save  its  life  loses  it,  and 
that  which  loses  its  life  preserves  it.  And  the  highest 
glory  of  the  highest  life  is  to  be  offered  up  a  living  sac- 
rifice to  God  for  the  sake  of  our  brethren.  This  is  the 
principle  of  life,  which  circulates  through  the  universe, 
and  whereby  all  things  minister  to  each  other,  the  lowest 
to  the  highest,  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  This  is  the 
golden  chain  of  love,  whereby  the  whole  creation  is 
bound  to  the  throne  of  the  Creator." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"Alton,  Dec.  14.  —  Having  just  seen  my  Augustus 
into  a  farmer's  gig  which  is  to  take  him  to  meet  the 
coach  (a  distance  of  four  and  a  half  miles,  which  they 
say  will  take  an  hour  and  a  half,  so  you  may  judge  of 
the  kind  of  roads),  I  must  find  consolation  in  writing  to 
you.  He  is  to  be  away  ten  days,  going  on  from  London 
to  Cambridge  to  see  Julius,  and  to  hear  him  preach  his 
Commemoration  Sermon.  My  heart  is  full  at  parting 
with  him,  but  I  shall  find  plenty  to  do,  and  be  very 
comfortable  whilst  he  is  away,  and  am  very  glad  he 
should  go.  It  is  such  a  beautiful  morning  for  his  drive, 
and  will  enable  me  to  chase  away  every  uncomfortable 


IIO  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

feeling  at  letting  my  tender  bird  out  of  its  cage  by  the 
clear  air  on  Old  Adam. 

"  I  have  had  a  good  deal  of  talk  with  Augustus  about 
his  ideas  on  Inspiration.  His  notion  is  that  in  all  the 
mere  detail  of  facts,  narrative  of  events,  &c,  there  is 
not  a  verbal  inspiration ;  for  instance,  that  it  required 
no  help  of  the  Spirit  to  give  the  names  of  David's  thirty 
captains,  nor  does  it  in  the  least  signify  whether  one 
was  left  out  or  miscalled  ;  that  in  every  thing  that  was 
of  the  slightest  importance  to  the  conveying  the  knowl- 
edge of  God,  —  his  scheme  respecting  men,  precepts, 
doctrines,  —  there  the  Spirit  dictated,  and  as  such  we 
must  receive  it ;  but  the  mere  historical  detail  he  thinks 
cannot,  with  all  its  variations  and  inconsistencies,  be 
dwelt  upon  as  every  word  inspired  by  God,  without 
incurring  the  difficulties  which  this  over-demand  on 
people's  belief  so  often  creates.  In  the  Gospels,  St. 
Matthew  mentions  two  blind  men,  St.  Mark  one ;  this 
proves  they  were  not  copied  one  from  the  other ;  but  if 
verbal  accuracy  is  required,  as  it  must  be  if  inspired 
verbally,  here  would  be  a  difficulty.  In  the  Christian 
revelation  more  especially,  which  is  in  this  peculiarity 
distinguished  from  the  Jewish,  he  thinks  the  spirit  and 
not  the  letter  should  be  attended  to  throughout.  By 
prayer,  by  singleness  of  heart,  he  thinks  that  he  who 
does  the  Will  will  never  fail  to  know  of  the  Doctrine, 
and  to  distinguish  between  what  may  be  rested  on  with 
faith,  and  what  may  be  deemed  unimportant,  but  which 
being  made  too  prominent  may  become  a  stumbling- 
block.  I  have  not  time  to  enter  further  into  this  ar- 
gument, or  into  another  we  had  yesterday  about  the 
heathen  philosophers,  —  how  far  the  truth  was  re- 
vealed to  them  indirectly  through  communication  with 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  Ill 

the  Jews,  and  how  far  the  expression  '  God  has  not  left 
Himself  without  a  witness'  may  in  a  spiritual  sense 
refer  to  them, — how  their  theories,  without  a  better 
foundation,  fell  to  atheism  amongst  the  Romans,  till 
religion  rose  again  with  a  reviving  power  in  Christi- 
anity. 

"  In  his  sermon  yesterday  Augustus  told  a  story 
about  fourteen  children  who  were  poisoned  from  eating 
herbs  at  Luneville,  in  consequence  of  a  great  famine, 
and  whose  funerals  he  himself  saw  in  passing  through 
—  and  so  on  to  the  Bread  of  Life.  He  brought  in  too 
my  old  woman  at  Stoke,  who  learnt  the  prayers  from 
hearing  them  at  church.  The  interest  excited  is  great, 
and  probably  all  the  more  from  the  novelty." 

Maria  Hare  to  Augustus  W.  Hare. 

"Alton,  Dec.  14,  1829.  —  One  might  suppose  that 
nine  or  ten  hours  at  Alton  would  not  afford  much  food 
for  a  letter,  yet  I  begin  to  feel  already  as  if  I  had  a 
great  deal  to  talk  about.  First,  there  were  the  letters. 
.  .  .  Then,  I  set  forth  on  my  walk.  I  had  such  a  de- 
lightful ramble  over  the  downs ;  the  sun  shone  so 
bright,  and  the  air  was  clear  and  reviving,  and  I  pushed 
on  till  I  turned  a  point  of  the  hill,  and  there  sprawling 
beneath  me  lay  the  great  White  Horse  in  all  its  chalky 
glory.  I  would  not  go  back  ignominiously  when  so  far, 
so  I  went  on,  and  soon  planted  my  stick  in  the  White 
Horse's  tail !  Far  beneath  in  the  hollow  the  sheep 
were  collected  together,  and  the  shepherd  boy  was 
seated  on  his  knoll  of  grass.  What  a  time  for  medita- 
tion !  no  wonder  the  great  poet  of  Israel  was  a  shepherd, 
or  rather,  to  give  the  cause  before  the  effect,  vice  versa. 
I  dare  say,  however,  no  very  sublime  thoughts  are  con- 


112  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

ceived  on  the  Wiltshire  Downs,  and  I  should  fear  the 
mind  was  as  inactive  as  the  body  in  the  boy  I  saw 
stationed  on  the  hill  with  that  wide  view  all  below  him. 
For  myself,  I  do  enjoy  greatly  the  rambling  about  on 
those  green  hills,  and,  forgetting  that  the  sun  was  not 
always  so  bright,  I  began  to  wonder  that  we  had  taken  so 
little  advantage  of  such  good  turf  and  free  air.  About 
three  o'clock  Mary  came  in  to  announce  the  arrival  of  the 
live  stock  from  Woodhay.  .  .  .  When  I  tell  you  that  I 
have  had  a  talk  with  Becky  King  about  the  Sacrament, 
I  believe,  I  shall  have  completed  the  history  of  this,  my 
first  day's  solitude,  in  which.I  have  not  had  one  moment 
to  spare,  and  been  as  happy  as  I  can  be  without  my  own 
dearest  husband.  I  feel  so  much  difference  from  the 
time  when  I  was  left  at  Woodhay.  Here  the  change 
from  having  you  to  having  only  my  own  thoughts  and 
books  is  far  less  striking,  and  I  am  never  dull,  though, 
dearest,  the  arm-chair  looks  very  empty,  and  the  silence 
is  not  so  pleasant  as  the  sound  of  the  voice  one  loves." 

"Dec.  1 6. — Is  it  two  whole  days,  dearest,  since  I 
have  talked  with  you,  and  nearly  three  since  you  went 
away  ?  It  has  not  seemed  very  long,  and  your  Mia 
has  been  very  happy  in  her  solitude,  and  does  not  feel 
half  as  desolate  here  as  she  used  to  do  in  that  great 
house  at  Woodhay  \  but  then  a  good  honest  Christmas 
fire  is  a  much  better  companion  than  a  make-believe 
summer  one,  with  winds  and  rain  driving  against  the 
windows.  .  .  . 

"  I  have  just  had  my  second  talk  with  Becky  King, 
who  told  me  she  used  to  think  the  latter  part  of  the 
Catechism  was  l  the  biggest  of  nonsense]  but  that  now  she 
knew  better  what  it  meant.  It  seems  your  reading  the 
latter  part  of  the  Communion  Address  encouraged  her 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  II3 

to  come  and  ask  questions,  and  it  seems  to  have  been 
thought  by  some,  as  Mr.  Crowe  never  read  that  part, 
that  it  was  your  putting  in.  Poor  woman  !  she  is  beset 
with  fears  and  doubts,  and  had  she  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  Methodists  would  soon  have  been  in  a  state 
of  despondency.  She  said  nothing  had  ever  given  her 
the  comfort  that  reading  her  Bible  had ;  and  yet  people 
ask,  What  good  can  teaching  to  read  do  ? 

"  By  this  time,  I  suppose,  the  object  of  your  mission 
is  come  to  a  point.  Would  I  could  see  you  for  one 
minute  through  a  telescope  as  you  are  talking  with 
Julius,  and  guess  at  the  result.  The  best  I  can  hope 
for  is,  that  if  you  fail,  as  I  fear  you  must  do,  he  may 
succeed  in  convincing  you  that  his  judgment  is  not  so 
far  wrong  as  you  have  been  disposed  to  think  it  is.  At 
all  events,  I  trust  to  the  sincere  affection  which  prompts 
the  one  to  censure  and  the  other  to  grieve  over  that 
censure,  keeping  your  hearts  open  to  the  kindly  feeling 
which  between  such  brothers  should  prevail  in  the  midst 
of  disagreement.  It  is  singular  how  it  has  hitherto 
struggled  through  all  the  harshness  of  opposition,  and 
always  succeeded  in  keeping  uppermost.  Let  it  still 
do  so,  and  all  will  be  well.  God  be  with  you,  and  bless 
you,  my  own  dearest.     Good  night !  " 

Augustus  W.  Hare  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Cambridge,  Dec.  16.  —  Julius  has  delivered  his  Com- 
memoration Sermon  manfully.  It  was  on  Self-sacrifice, 
showing  that  throughout  the  universe,  animate  and  inan- 
imate, from  God  to  the  lowest  living  created  thing,  every 
good  thing  that  is  done  is  done  by  self-sacrifice  of  some 
kind  or  other.  So  instead  of  commemorating  the  de- 
parted, he  showed  how  alone  things  worthy  of  com- 


114  RECORDS    OF    A   QUIET    LIFE. 

memoration  could  be  accomplished ;  and  Bacon  by  his 
maxims,  and  Newton  by  his  life  (both  members  of 
Trinity),  furnished  him  with  examples  most  appropriate 
to  the  subject  and  to  the  day.  The  great  feature  of  the 
beginning  was  an  attack  upon  the  Paley  doctrines,  which 
debase  virtue  into  a  refined  selfishness.  But  as  the 
sermon  lasted  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  you  may  conceive 
how  impossible  it  is  to  give  the  darling  Mia  even  the 
slightest  sketch  of  it.  After  service,  we  came  back  to 
Julius's  rooms,  to  be  present  at  his  distribution  of  the 
college  prizes  for  the  year ;  and  almost  more  than  in  the 
sermon  did  I  delight  in  the  readiness  with  which  he  said 
something  kind  and  gratifying  and  appropriate  to  almost 
every  man  as  he  came  to  him  in  succession." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"Dec.  20.  —  I  think  I  told  you  about  Becky  King,  who 
begged  to  talk  to  me  about  the  Sacrament.  She  said 
she  had  often  wished  but  never  dared  to  come.  She 
certainly  affords  an  instance  of  God's  Spirit  working  in 
her.  She  seems  to  have  met  with  no  one  likely  to  put 
such  thoughts  into  her  head,  —  has  no  cant  or  display, 
but  does  seem  really  to  feel  that  she  is  sinful,  and  that 
she  is  unworthy  to  come  before  God.  Sometimes  she 
says  she  feels  as  if  she  must  be  cast  away,  and  then  the 
words  of  the  Bible  comfort  her,  —  *  And  if  I  do  but  say 
God  help  me,  it  seems  to  do  me  good,  ma'am.'  She  told 
so  simply  how  much  she  was  taken  up  with  cares  about  this 
world,  and  how  to  struggle  on  with  their  poverty  and  pay 
their  debts,  and  that  she  could  not  help  fretting  about  it, 
though  she  knew  it  was  so  wrong,  that  I  really  felt  quite 
ashamed  that  she  should  see  me  sitting  at  my  ease,  with 
every  luxury  around  me.     I  hope  to  be  some  comfort  to 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.         11$ 

her,  but  it  does  strike  one  as  something  like  mockery  to 
talk  to  such  poor  creatures  about  being  thankful  for  what 
is  given  them,  and  certainly  they  do  need  the  hopes  of 
something  hereafter  to  look  on  to. 

"  I  am  very  busy  writing  a  sermon  to  be  ready  for 
Augustus's  return.  I  don't  know  whether  it  will  be  of 
any  use  to  him,  but  it  is  partly  done  in  his  style,  which 
is  rather  that  of  plain  talking  than  preaching.  We  have 
got  a  large  cargo  of  flannel  and  blankets  from  Frome 
to  cut  up,  and  we  shall  give  them  the  day  after 
Christmas,  which  will  be  a  good  way  of  knowing  all 
the  people. 

"Dec.  22. — Your  account  of  seeing  the  railway  takes 
away  my  breath,  and  puts  my  head  into  a  perfect  whirl. 
What  will  this  all  come  to  ?  Some  great  change  must 
take  place.  I  want,  as  you  say,  my  companion  to  talk 
it  all  over  to.  However,  you  are  quite  right  that  even 
great  as  my  privation  is  of  not  having  him,  there  are 
independent  charms  of  being  alone  which  we  enjoy 
more  than  most.  It  is  such  a  pleasure  having  things 
done  that  I  know  will  please  him  or  make  him  more 
comfortable.  For  instance,  I  have  moved  the  chairs 
and  tables,  till  I  have  made  more  space  for  my  poor 
man  to  walk  about.  He  is  so  patient  that  he  never 
says  a  word  about  it,  but  I  know  he  must  long  to 
expel  half  the  furniture  that  is  in  the  way  of  his  long 
legs  and  walks.  It  is  very  good  for  him,  however,  to  be 
a  little  curtailed.  He  will  lose  the  habit  of  jumping 
up  and  twirling  round,  from  the  impossibility  here  of 
doing  it  without  knocking  something  over.  I  have 
always  forgotten  to  copy  for  your  amusement  some 
lines  addressed  to  him,  I  forget  who  by,  but  describing 
a  debating  society  at  Oxford,  of  which  he  was  a  mem- 
ber.    Here  are  those  relating  to  him  :  — 


Il6  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


"And  first  thyself  that  planned  the  vast  design, 
And  bade  such  powers  of  eloquence  combine,  — 
Yes  !  sure  'tis  he  !  'tis  Hare  whose  gamut  voice 
Bids  treason  flourish,  Jacobins  rejoice  ; 
Who  tells  in  alt  what  ills  our  State  disgrace, 
And  mumbles  out  corruption's  fall  in  base. 
'Tis  he,  whose  restless  hand,  now  out,  now  in, 
m  Threats  all  around,  or  strokes  his  beardless  chin ; 

Each  adverse  speech  he  vows  on  conquest  bent,  — 

*  To  declamation  without  argument  ; ' 
Next  well-composed  antitheses  ensue, — 

*  Naught  true  is  novel,  and  naught  novel  true ; 
Till,  as  vast  metaphors  distend  his  breast, 

He  winds  his  period  up,  and  chokes  the  rest." 

I  have  been  reading  a  little  of  Schleiermacher.  Thirl- 
wall's  preface,  with  the  history  of  all  the  different  the- 
ories, is  quite  bewildering,  and  enough,  I  think,  to  turn 
any  one  disbeliever  in  the  inspiration.  Schleiermacher, 
I  think,  clearly  has  a  right  feeling  himself,  and  only 
wishes  to  account  for  the  discrepancies  in  the  best  way 
he  can,  believing  in  the  main  points  as  divinely  taught. 
But  I  suspect  the  effect  on  most  would  be  rather  of  cre- 
ating doubt  than  of  satisfying  it.  Still  there  are  many 
singular  theories  about  how  this  story  must  have  origi- 
nated in  the  telling  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  that  in  the 
telling  of  the  shepherds,  &c,  which  do  not  at  all  take 
away  from  the  high  origin ;  and  the  supposition  that  it 
was  originally  written  down  in  detached  portions,  occa- 
sioned by  the  questions  of  the  early  converts,  and  after- 
Wards  collected  together,  does  not  seem  to  me  at  all  to 
take  away  from  its  truth  or  spiritual  inspiration,  and 
accounts  for  the  want  of  connection. 

"  Yesterday  evening  I  was  actually  obliged  to  go  to 
bed  from  the  cold,  having  tried  alternately  whether  the 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  II J 

draft  from  the  door  or  window  was  the  most  bearable. 
One  is  obliged  to  move  one's  position  sometimes,  so  that 
an  undue  partiality  of  warmth  may  not  be  shown  to  one 
side.  You  cannot  think  how  beautiful  Alton  looks  in 
the  snow.  Yesterday  the  sunset  on  the  snow-hills  was 
quite  Alpine.  But,  my  poor  Augustus  —  I  wonder  how 
he  will  ever  get  home  to-day  through  the  deep  drifts,  and 
shall  be  most  glad  to  have  him  safe  here. 

"  Dec.  30.  —  You  will  not  be  very  glad  of  Augustus's 
return,  as  it  stops  my  pen  so  much.  I  do  not  know  how 
it  happens,  but  when  he  is  at  home  there  seems  no  time 
for  any  thing.  He  brought  his  aunt's  dog  Brute  home 
with  him.  Can  you  fancy  me  with  a  little  beast  ?  How- 
ever, I  shall  learn  to  talk  to  one  soon  I  think. 

"  We  had  a  great  day  on  Saturday  for  giving  away  to 
all  the  people,  and  so  got  all  their  names  and  histories, 
and  Augustus  scolded  the  mothers  whose  daughters  had 
*  misfortunes]  and  told  them  how,  in  the  parish  he  came 
from,  such  a  thing  was  unheard  of.  On  Christmas  day 
we  had  only  two  communicants,  besides  my  woman  and 
ourselves.  On  Sunday  the  great  Alton  clergyman  did 
not  come  on  account  of  the  snow,  and  Augustus  had 
to  do  the  whole  morning  service  there,  as  well  as  the 
evening  here. 

"  Jan.  6, 1830.  — Julius  came  on  Monday,  bringing  our 
young  half-brother  Gustavus  with  him,  that  he  might 
read  with  Augustus.  A  new  person  coming  upon  one's 
solitude  seems  to  let  in  so  much  new  light.  Then  Julius 
is  much  more  communicative  than  Augustus,  and  more 
generally  conversable.  But  with  all  that  mildness  of  de- 
meanor and  character,  I  am  surprised  to  hear  him  so 
vehement  on  politics,  &c.  I  think  he  will  be  obliged 
to  end  by  living  in  Germany,  he  is  so  much  annoyed  by 


Il8  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  present  system  of  things  in  this  country,  —  by  the 
overpowering  commercial  spirit  which  fills  every  thing. 
He  must  have  surprised  a  fellow-traveller  in  the  coach, 
who  was  rejoicing  in  the  present  books  for  children,  by 
saying  that  there  was  not  one  fit  for  them  to  read  ;  and 
had  he  gone  on  to  express  his  regret  that  the  poor  had 
no  longer  popular  romances  to  read,  his  companion 
would  have  wondered  still  more.  He  does  not  con- 
ceal his  dislike  of  people  when  he  feels  it,  and  is  not 
near  as  cautious  as  Augustus  is.  I  hope  he  will  preach 
on  Sunday.  By-the-bye,  Augustus  preached  my  sermon 
last  Sunday,  with  a  few  alterations  of  his  own,  which 
did  very  well.  He  says  he  never  saw  the  people  so 
attentive.  It  was  something  like  my  copies  of  your 
drawings,  —  having  a  good  foundation,  but  imperfectly 
worked  up,  and  wanting  the  spirit  and  force  of  an 
original. 

"  Jan.  29.  —  Pray  tell  Charlie  that  when  his  uncle 
was  five  or  six  years  old  his  great  play  at  school  was 
taking  Bergen-op-Zoom,  the  scene  of  action  being  Twy- 
ford  churchyard,  and  his  fortifications  composed  of 
string  from  one  tombstone  to  another.  Without  any 
knowledge  of  geography,  he  picked  out  the  names  he 
could  hear  of,  so  that  Malta  and  Copenhagen  were  side 
by  side  sometimes,  and  all  his  leisure  hours  were  spent 
in  arranging  plans  for  assaults,  and  thinking  over,  as  he 
grew  older,  what  he  read  in  Thucydides,  &c.  .  .  .  His 
trouble  in  teaching  Gustavus  is  really  repaid  by  the 
delight  Demosthenes  gives  him.  His  language  and 
style  is  as  plain  and  homely  as  that  of  Cobbett,  and 
his  eloquence  produced  entirely  by  the  force  of  argu- 
ment. Of  course  my  studies  have  lain  in  this  line  lately, 
one  thing  brings  up  another  so  j  and  then  I  feel  so  ig- 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  II9 

norant  of  all  the  general  principles,  as  if  there  was  so 
much  to  be  known  and  thought  about  that  a  poor  weak 
mind  cannot  embrace  any  thing,  and  I  wonder  at  the 
bigotry  of  those  who  think  their  own  opinions  infallible. 
"  I  begin  almost  to  dread  seeing  you  again,  the  hap- 
piness will  be  so  great.  Julius  has  left  us,  having  been 
much  shocked  the  day  before  by  hearing  of  Niebuhr's 
death.  He  laments  him  no  less  for  the  excellence  of 
his  private  character  than  for  his  literary  attainments,  — 
says  the  world  has  a  great  loss  in  the  latter,  for  his 
researches  were  so  very  deep.  Having  a  very  nervous 
mind,  it  had  preyed  on  the  troubles  of  the  times,  and 
worn  him  out  quite  in  his  prime." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"  Feb.  11.  — There  are  two  things  in  your  last  letter 
I  thought  of  commenting  on.  One  was  what  you  say 
about  our  imperfect  powers  of  mind.  Certainly  they  do 
prove  the  corruption  and  weakness  of  our  intellectual 
nature,  but  this  I  conceive  to  be  a  distinct  thing  from 
the  moral  corruption  of  which  St.  Paul  speaks,  except  so 
far  as  they  act  and  react  upon  each  other.  With  re- 
gard to  religious  truth  (I  mean  not  unessential  points, 
but  a  Christian  faith),  I  believe  Augustus  would  say 
that  it  is  the  corruption  of  the  will  that  perverts  the 
intellect,  —  some  hidden  undiscovered  cause  perhaps  ; 
but  he  holds  that  there  is  no  person  perfectly  sincere 
and  honest  in  his  search  after  truth,  who  will  not  sooner 
or  later  be  allowed  to  find  it,  and  be  helped  in  his  in- 
quiry. But  then  to  be  unprejudiced  and  open  to  convic- 
tion is  just  the  point  on  which  we  all  fail.  Our  limited 
capacities,  I  think,  would  alone  convince  us  of  there 
being  a  something  far  higher  to  which  we  shall  one  day 


120  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

attain,  and  where  all  will  be  made  clear  which  now 
seems  often  so  obscure.  The  striving  of  our  nature  after 
something  better,  and  its  reluctance  to  stand  still,  might 
be  a  proof  that  the  image  of  God  in  our  souls  has  not 
wholly  been  done  away;  if  it  was,  there  could  be  no 
chord  to  be  struck,  nothing  to  answer  the  call,  to  lay 
hold  of  the  means  held  out,  —  in  darkness  we  must 
remain.  I  suspect  that  in  many  the  extreme  to  which 
the  contrary  doctrine  is  pushed  proceeds  from  a  degree 
of  jealousy  lest  sufficient  stress  should  not  be  laid  upon 
Christ's  doing  all  and  not  part  of  our  salvation  ;  and  so 
(as  I  think  Whately  somewhere  observes)  are  doctrines, 
not  necessarily  dependent  on  each  other  to  their  extreme 
point,  made  to  hang  together  for  fear  lest  in  loosening 
one  both  should  give  way. 

"  People  ought  to  marry,  that  by  communion  with 
another  mind  they  may  look  at  themselves  with  other 
eyes.  Now  the  thing  which  I  see  more  clearly  than  I 
used  to  do  is,  how  much .  the  system  of  indulgence 
gives  a  false  view  of  life,  and  tends  to  raise  an  expec- 
tation and  wish  of  self-gratification  in  every  thing,  as 
well  as  making  those  occasions  when  that  is  not  possible 
appear  in  the  light  of  great  trials  and  sacrifices.  I  am 
much  struck  with  the  effect  which  a  different  system 
has  had  upon  Augustus,  and  how  much  more  whole- 
some to  his  character  the  severity  of  early  discipline 
was,  and  the  constant  giving  up  of  self.  Some  bad 
consequences  result  from  the  fear  produced,  —  reserve, 
and  in  a  less  upright  mind  perhaps  deceit ;  but  I  begin 
to  think  that  in  the  days  when  subjection  to  elders 
was  enforced,  and  when  less  was  done  to  promote  the 
amusement  and  gratification  of  children,  more  was  done 
to  form  their  minds  to  a  right  view  of  themselves  and 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  121 

others.  It  is  well  that  something  of  humiliation  at  find- 
ing my  own  notions  of  duty  lower  than  they  should  be 
arises  out  of  marriage,  or  what  would  become  of  me 
with  such  excessive  spoiling? 

"  To  day  I  have  been  on  the  downs  as  far  as  the 
Beacon,  and  am  quite  stiff  with  the  hard  work  it  was 
getting  up  the  hill  through  the  deep  mortar." 

Maria  Hare  to  Miss  Clinton. 

"Feb.  27,  1830.  —  Nothing  can  be  more  convenient 
than  a  parish,  no  house  of  which  is  beyond  a  ten  min- 
utes' walk.     Then  the  power  of  knowing  every  individ- 
ual in  it,  and  of  ministering  even  with  our  small  means 
to  the  comfort  of  all,  is  a  very  great  advantage.     But 
there  is  scarcely  a  grown-up  person  who  can  read,  and 
I  was  not  aware  before  how  much  the  want  of  this  sim- 
ple knowledge  leads  to  a  general  dulness  of  intellect, 
and  how  greatly  it  adds  to  the  difficulty  of  giving  any 
thing  of  religious  instruction.     How  is  the  mother  of  a 
family,  who  can  never  or  rarely  get  to  church,  and  has  no 
means  of  learning  any  thing  at  home,  to  know  or  care  any 
thing  about  any  world  but  this  ?    I  hope  we  may  in  time 
be  able  to  do  something  towards  enlightening  their  minds 
a  little,  but  it  is  a  work  of  great  difficulty,  and  I  long  for 
a  missionary  spirit  to  be  able  to  speak  the  truth  and  the 
whole  truth  to  them  with  plainness  and  openness.     The 
first  thing  has  been  of  course  to  begin  with  the  children. 
Those  who  are  not  advanced  beyond  A  B  and  B  A  of 
course  get  on  very  slowly,  but  we  have  now  begun  a 
little  village   school.     The  people  seem  a  good   deal 
struck  by  Augustus's  sermons,  which  being  extremely 
plain,  and  at  the  same  time  out  of  the  common  way, 
with  illustrations  from  their  own  sphere  of  life,  have  a 
6 


122  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

greater  effect  than  many  finer  discourses.  But  how  very 
hard  it  is  to  give  them  the  least  notion  of  religion,  ex- 
cept as  one  of  forms  and  outward  acts  !  I  am  now 
visiting  a  sick  woman,  one  of  the  most  respectable  in 
the  parish,  who  has  attended  church  better  than  her 
neighbors  and  brought  up  her  family  well.  She  is 
pleased  to  have  me  read  to  her,  but  beyond  the  Jewish 
creed  of  a  God  that  will  reward  and  punish,  and  to 
whom  we  must  pray  for  help  and  protection,  she  seems 
to  have  as  little  sense  of  her  needing  a  mediator,  or  of 
all  that  she  owes  to  Him,  as  any  heathen  might  have ; 
and  to  convince  her  that  the  faults,  for  which  she  takes 
God's  pardon  as  a  matter  of  course,  are  such  as  the 
Bible  teaches  us  proceed  from  the  heart  and  must  be 
repented  of,  I  feel  some  trouble  in  making  her  under- 
stand. Till  I  came  here  I  was  scarcely  aware,  having 
only  seen  parishes  which  had  long  been  civilized  and 
attended  to,  how  much  devolves  upon  the  exertion  and 
attention  of  the  Rectory  in  teaching  the  poor  people ; 
and  the  state  of  simplicity  which  one  might  expect,  as 
you  say,  from  the  distance  from  a  high  road,  having  no 
town  near,  and  no  public  house  in  the  village,  is  far  less 
than  might  be  hoped.  The  system  of  all  the  women 
and  girls  acting  as  field-laborers  — ploughing  and  shep- 
herding, &c.  —  in  itself  produces  a  rough  and  savage 
state  of  society." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley  (after  a  happy  visit  from 
the  Stanleys  at  Alton  and  an  absence  in  London). 

"  Alton,  June  i,  1830.  —  Here  we  are  again  at  our  own 
quiet  home,  which,  in  the  depth  of  shade  and  exceeding 
freshness  of  foliage,  looks  more  retired  and  more  rural 
even  than  when  you  saw  it.     You  may  fancy  the  pleasure 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.         1 23 

it  has  been  to  me  to  receive  from  Mrs.  Reginald  Heber  a 
parcel  of  the  '  Life.'  She  seems  to  me  to  have  done  it 
so  judiciously  in  making  him  his  own  biographer  by  his 
letters  and  journals,  and  they  bring  him  most  vividly 
before  one.  Wherever  his  mind  comes  forth,  the  ster- 
ling sense  united  with  the  candor  and  liberality  is  very 
remarkable.  I  feel  one's  loss  of  him  renewed  by  having 
him  thus  brought  home  to  one's  recollection.  To  be 
sure,  how  unlike  he  was  to  any  one  else.  I  cannot  read 
the  book  without  tears. 

"Augustus  has  been  working  hard  at  his  own  hay, 
going  out  every  half-hour  to  see  what  they  were  about, 
watching  the  clouds  with  an  anxiety  worthy  of  any 
farmer,  and  scolding  because  the  cocks  were  not  judi- 
ciously made,  to  say  nothing  of  moving  half  the  grass 
when  mown  into  the  next  field  to  dry  sooner,  which 
answered  completely.  Mary  has  worked  in  the  hay  all 
day,  dressed  me,  brought  in  dinner,  milked  the  cow,  and 
at  seven  o'clock  there  she  was  in  the  hay  again.  When 
I  saw  her  in  the  croft,  I  laughed  and  said,  'You  have 
had  enough  variety  to-day.'  '  Oh,  yes,'  she  said, '  I  feel  as 
if  I  was  at  home.'  Certainly,  whether  a  country  gentle- 
man's daughter  is  the  thing  for  a  wife  or  not,  a  respect- 
able farmer's  daughter  is  the  thing  for  a  servant." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"June  2,  1830.  —  I  daresay  you  have  followed  us 
to-day  in  our  walks  and  rides,  and  guessed  how  many 
recollections  have  come  across  us  of  the  beginning  of 
our  life  together,  of  which  this  is  the  first  anniversary. 
How  blessed  this  year  has  been  to  us  both !  Who 
knows  what  another  may  be  ?  But  we  are,  thank  God, 
in  better  hands  than  our  own,  and  our  care  for  the  future 


124  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

as  for  the  present  must  all  be  cast  on  Him.  We  were  so 
glad  to  be  able  to  spend  this  day  alone  together,  and  at 
our  own  dear  little  quiet  home,  which  is  so  very  green 
and  fresh ;  the  roses  cluster  in  at  the  windows,  and  it 
looks  so  very  retired  and  comfortable,  that  I  long  for 
you  to  see  it  in  its  summer  dress. 

"Augustus  has  established  a  second  service  on  a 
Sunday,  which  was  never  before  known;  and  it  has 
been  received  thankfully,  as  also  his  attempts  to  teach 
these  poor  ignorant  people  something  about  the  Sacra- 
ment, which  has  been  entirely  neglected.  He  had  quite 
a  little  congregation  last  week  on  those  evenings  in  which, 
after  a  prayer  he  made  for  the  occasion,  he  talked  and 
explained  to  them  for  above  an  hour,  and  they  seemed 
greatly  pleased.  If  we  can  do  something,  how  thankful 
we  shall  be,  but  it  must  take  a  long  time  before  any 
great  change  can  be  made ;  and  when  the  novelty  of 
having  a  pastor  who  cares  about  their  souls  is  a  little 
gone  by,  we  must  expect  to  have  many  discourage- 
ments. .  .  . 

"  How  it  unites  the  interests  of  rich  and  poor  when 
the  one  is  enabled  to  contribute  so  essentially  to  the 
welfare  of  the  other,  and  when  they  can  join  together 
in  one  great  feeling.  I  am  sure  they  are  wonderfully 
sensible  of,  and  grateful  for,  one's  taking  an  interest 
about  their  spiritual  concerns  as  much  as  for  their  tem- 
poral, and  it  quite  saddens  one  to  think  that  such  a 
weight  of  responsibility  as  attaches  to  the  clergy  should 
be  so  often  misused  and  slighted.  Pray  for  us  that  we 
may  be  enabled  to  persevere,  that  God  may  bless  our 
weak  attempts  to  lead  others  into  that  service  of  perfect 
freedom,  and  that  He  may  strengthen  our  own  faith,  that 
whilst  teaching  others  we  also  may  be  advancing  in  his 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  12$ 

love  and  knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  that  we  may  give 
all  the  praise  to  Him.  This  last  especially  I  would  say 
must  never  be  out  of  our  minds,  for  our  poor  weak  nature 
is  so  ready  to  take  all  the  glory  to  itself. 

...  "I  am  often  tempted  to  wish  there  was  not 
another  religious  book  in  the  world  except  the  Bible, 
and  then  there  would  I  believe  be  far  less  difference 
of  opinion  and  more  simplicity  of  feeling.  Were  Christ 
himself  the  model  of  life  and  his  precepts  the  standard 
of  opinion,  many  who  are  by  the  errors  and  ill-judgment 
of  even  his  faithful  followers  led  astray  would  be  filled 
more  with  that  spirit  of  love  and  peace  which  marks 
his  character." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"  Alton,  July  8.  —  The  aunts  are  just  gone  —  and  oh  ! 
on  Monday  next  down  go  the  partition  walls  of  the  draw- 
ing-room, and  lo !  our  beautiful  new  room  twenty-three 
feet  in  length  !  No  sooner  was  the  suggestion  made  of 
such  an  improvement  being  practicable,  and  the  prob- 
able execution  talked  of  for  a  future  time,  than  each 
sister  looked  at  the  other,  — '  I  see  what  you  are  thinking 
of,  Marianne,  and  the  same  thing  struck  me.'  And  then 
came  that  it  was  a  great  pity  to  delay  such  an  increase 
of  comfort,  and  that  they  should  have  real  pleasure  in 
giving  it  to  us.  Nothing  could  be  done  more  kindly  and 
handsomely.  It  was  a  beautiful  day  for  their  arrival,  and 
all  looked  to  advantage.  They  expressed  satisfaction  in 
every  thing,  found  no  faults,  and  I  did  not  ask  opinions 
on  things  I  did  not  intend  to  follow,  and  did  upon  points 
where  I  could.  The  village  was  well  astonished  by  the 
great  ladies  and  their  four  horses. 

"We  are  going  to  Stoke  in  a  fortnight.  ...  I  am 


126  RECORDS   OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

sure  it  is  necessary  and  wholesome  to  mix  in  the  world 
sometimes  to  prevent  one's  notions  becoming  narrow  and 
bigoted,  as  they  will  do  if  one  never  associates  except/ 
with  those  who  think  with  one's  self.  But  certainly  the 
truest  enjoyment  must  always  be  in  one's  own  dear  home, 
striving  to  help  those  around  us,  regretting  only  how 
weak  and  inefficient  are  the  human  means  of  benefiting 
them.  ...  I  do  not  know  if  I  have  ever  told  you  what 
my  study  is  now,  —  Greek.  I  read  a  few  verses  each 
day  in  my  Testament,  and  get  on  pretty  well,  my  master 
tells  me,  and  it  is  such  a  delight  to  me. 

"Stoke,  Sept.  26. — The  terrible  news  of  the  railway 
accident  and  Mr.  Huskisson's  death  quite  occupies  us. 
Augustus  and  I  have  been  making  out  from  the  news- 
papers how  many  variations  there  are  in  the  accounts  of 
the  story,  as  told  professedly  by  those  who  were  on  the 
spot ;  and  had  he  to  preach  in  the  neighborhood  at  this 
time,  he  says  he  should  certainly  make  use  of  them  as 
an  instance  how  absurd  it  would  be  some  years  hence 
to  doubt  the  truth  of  the  way  in  which  Mr.  Huskisson 
was  killed  because  one  eye-witness  calls  it  the  right,  and 
another  the  left  leg  that  was  injured ;  because  one  says 
he  fell  on  his  face,  knocked  down  by  the  door,  and 
another  that  his  foot  slipped,  &c. ;  and  how  similar  are 
the  doubts  raised  of  the  truth  of  the  Gospels  by  the 
variations  of  the  evangelist  story." 

Augustus  W.  Hare  to  a  Clerical  Friend. 

"Sept.,  1830. —  .  .  .  You  may  remember  you  said  to 
me,  as  I  was  getting  into  the  carriage  to  leave  your 
house,  that  you  hoped  I  did  not  think  the  worse  of  you 
for  the  discussions  we  had  had  together.  Now  I  will  not 
pay  your  penetration  so  bad  a  compliment  as  to  suppose 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.         1 27 

it  possible  you  should  not  have  perceived  how  greatly  I 
admire  many  things  about  you,  —  your  care  of  the  par- 
ish, your  love  of  natural  science,  your  activity,  your  unre- 
mitting endeavors  to  improve  the  condition  of  the  poor 
around  you.  Heartily  do  I  wish  that  I  resembled  and 
equalled  you  in  these  respects.  All  I  deplore  is,  that 
with  so  much  energy  of  character,  and  such  a  love  of 
truth,  you  should  be  content  to  remain,  on  many  points, 
halting  between  two  opinions  ;  and  that  you  should  suffer 
your  peace  to  be  disturbed  and  your  days  embittered  by 
questions  which,  if  you  would  only  grapple  with  them 
steadily,  would  many  of  them,  I  am  convinced,  turn  out 
to  be  little  more  than  phantoms.  I  do  not  deny  that 
there  may  be  many  difficulties  in  the  narratives  we  have 
so  often  discussed  together,  but,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Chris- 
tian, they  kick  the  beam  when  weighed  against  the  posi- 
tive evidence  afforded  us  in  the  life  and  character  of 
Jesus.  ...  I  am  disposed  to  say  to  any  Christian  who 
vexes  himself  about  such  questions  as  that  of  Jonah  and 
his  fish,  for  instance,  *  What  matters  it,  whether  the  story 
be  literal  or  allegorical,  so  long  as  we  believe  in  Jesus 
and  his  tomb,  and  know  that  He  rose  from  it  trium- 
phantly ? '  The  darkest  passages  in  the  Old  Testament 
are  illuminated  by  that  event  with  a  reflected  light,  which 
shows  them  to  be  either  true  or  unimportant. 

"  Apropos  of  light,  a  fancy  occurred  to  me  the  other 
day,  which,  if  you  would  mature  and  execute  it,  would 
show,  I  think,  more  clearly  than  any  words  can  do,  how 
small  a  part  the  difficulties  are  compared  with  the  whole 
scheme ;  and,  at  any  rate,  how  small  is  the  shade  they 
cast  on  the  great  surrounding  objects.  That  they  are 
nuisances  in  themselves  I  can  readily  conceive,  but  then 


128  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

it  is  simply  as  being  negations  ;  they  are  but  minus 
quantities,  and  can  no  more  affect  or  obscure  the  glori- 
ous truth,  with  which  they  are  found  in  juxtaposition, 
than  a  thousand  thistles  in  a  park  can  conceal  or  out-top 
the  oak  in  it.  Over  those  thistles,  be  they  as  high  and 
prickly  as  they  may,  the  oak  will  still  be  seen  conspic- 
uously ;  and  it  will  still  afford  its  giant  shelter  to  all  who 
can  force  their  way  through  the  briars  and  nettles  up  to 
it.  And,  after  all,  the  Bible  abounds  in  oaks,  and  has 
not  half  so  many  thistles  in  it  as  I  have  cut  down  at 
Hurstmonceaux.  My  fancy,  however,  is  this,  to  draw  a 
sort  of  map  of  the  whole.  The  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments might  be  the  two  worlds,  the  different  books 
would  be  so  many  provinces,  the  chief  events  would  be 
like  great  cities,  the  difficulties  would  be  deserts,  marshes, 
&c.  In  short,  not  to  allegorize  too  much,  it  would  be 
easy,  I  think,  to  color  this  plan  or  map  with  various 
colors,  from  white  to  black,  marking  the  different  shades 
and  gradations  of  belief  as  you  feel  them  to  exist  in  your 
own  mind,  from  the  highest  intensity  of  persuasion  and 
conviction  to  the  shadows,  clouds,  and  darkness  —  if  it 
ever  amount  to  darkness  —  of  any  degree  of  doubt  you 
may  be  conscious  of.  Might  not  such  a  synopsis  as  this 
have  the  advantage  of  making  you  feel  more  strongly 
than  you  at  present  seem  to  do  how  small  a  proportion 
your  serious  difficulties  bear  to  the  many  great  points  on 
which  your  mind  is  quite  at  rest.  It  is  painful  to  see 
an  anxiety  about  small  matters  hanging  like  a  clog  about 
your  mind,  ever  flapping  against  it  and  distracting  its 
exertions,  and  retarding  its  progress  towards  perfection. 
He  who  is  ever  laying  the  foundation  afresh  will  never 
finish  the  building.     He  who  has  not  the  foundation  laid 


TAKING  ROOT  AT  ALTON.  1 29 

sufficiently  by  the  beginning  of  Autumn  has  little  time 
to  lose,  if  he  means  to  have  his  house  comfortable  by 
Christmas.  Your  house  is  not  comfortable.  Would 
you  could  bring  yourself  to  devote  your  energies  to  the 
making  it  comfortable,  with  a  determination  of  perse- 
vering till  the  work  is  done.  A  few  months,  nay,  a  year 
or  two,  would  be  well  employed  in  an  occupation  the 
certain  issue  and  reward  of  which  are  peace. 

"  I  need  hardly  say  that  this  applies  with  equal  force 
to  your  misgivings  about  some  of  the  Calvinistic  tenets. 
In  my  opinion  the  Arminian  who  relies  on  Divine  grace, 
the  moderate  Calvinist  who  insists  on  holiness  and  re- 
frains from  preaching  retribution,  and  the  man  who  dis- 
misses the  controversy  from  his  thoughts  as  too  high 
for  his  learning  and  abilities,  when  brought  within  these 
wholesome  limits,  as  being  partially  unimportant,  —  all 
these  men,  I  conceive,  may  meet  together  in  one  Church, 
as  in  a  common  field,  in  which  each  has  an  equal  right 
to  tilL"  .  .  . 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"Alton,  Oct.  26,  1830.  —  You  may  guess  the  joy  with 
which  we  found  ourselves  at  home  again,  and  we  have 
had  such  greetings  from  all  the  people.  .  .  .  Yester- 
day I  mounted  Jack  again  for  the  first  time,  Augustus 
walked  by  my  side,  and  we  enjoyed  much  going  along 
that  beautiful  terrace  you  remember  on  the  downs,  and 
coming  back  through  the  pretty  lanes  where  the  bluebells 
were.  Nothing  can  be  more  perfect  than  our  present 
life.  The  third  Sunday  we  were  away,  Mr.  Bleeck  had 
service  at  Great  Alton  church  in  the  morning.  In  the 
evening  Mr.  Peck,  as  usual,  had  service  in  our  church. 
6*  1 


130  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

When  he  came  out,  the  clerk  stepped  up  to  him,  — 'That 
was  a  very  good  sermon,  sir,  you  gave  us ;  to  be  sure, 
we  heard  every  word  of  it  this  morning  from  Mr.  Bleeck  ; 
but  we  shall  remember  it  all  the  better.'  Was  it  not 
singular  ? 


VIII. 

JOURNALS  — "THE  GREEN  BOOK." 

"  Love,  lift  me  upon  thy  golden  wings 
From  this  base  world  unto  thy  heaven's  hight, 
Where  I  may  see  those  admirable  things, 
Which  there  thou  workest  by  thy  soveraine  might, 
Farre  above  feeble  reach  of  earthly  sight, 
That  I  thereof  a  heavenly  hymne  may  sing 
Unto  the  God  of  love,  high  heaven's  King." 

E.  Spenser,  1553-98. 
Maria  Hare's  Journal. 

"  ALTON-BARNES,  Nov.  22,  1829,  Sunday.  — My 
■**•  thirty-first  birthday !  my  first  married  one  !  God 
be  praised  for  the  happiness  that  attends  it.  Others 
have  been  accompanied  by  hopes,  and  plans,  and  expec- 
tations for  the  future  ;  this  presents  the  realization  of  all, 
and  more  than  all  I  have  ever  dared  to  hope.  I  no 
longer  look  on  to  what  is  in  store ;  rather  I  dwell  upon 
the  present  enjoyment,  and  tremble  lest  another  year 
should  bring  with  it  any  change.  My  heart  is  often  full 
to  overflowing  when  I  think  of  the  many  fond  dreams  I 
cherished  of  the  days  to  come,  and  feel  now  how  they 
have  all  so  fully  come  to  pass.  It  was  in  our  own  little 
church  I  this  day  knelt  and  prayed,  and  it  was  my  hus- 
band's voice  to  which  I  listened,  and  witl}  him  have  I  this 
evening  read  the  Psalms  and  Lessons  to  our  little  house- 
hold, and  so  joined  together  in  the  sacred  services  of  the 
day.     How  long  has  this  been  an  object  of  my  wishes, 


132  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LlFE. 

to  unite  with  the  partner  of  my  heart  and  life  in  such 
duties.  In  his  tender  affection,  and  in  the  perfect  con- 
fidence which  exists  between  us,  there  is  a  charm  thrown 
over  our  daily  life  which  certainly  equals,  and  I  think 
exceeds,  what  I  had  fancied  would  be  the  case ;  and 
such  is  the  fear  and  trembling  with  which  its  duration 
is  thought  of,  that  I  am  anxious  to  record  something  of 
these  happy  days  as  they  pass,  which  may  hereafter  re- 
call them  to  the  recollection  more  vividly  than  memory 
unassisted  could  do.  I  can  breathe  no  prayer  for  the 
present,  but  that  a  sense  of  our  utter  dependence  on  God 
may  never  leave  me,  and  that  He  will  in  his  mercy 
strengthen  my  faith  and  resign  me  to  his  will ;  that 
whatsoever  that  will  may  require  from  me,  be  it  in  suffer- 
ing or  be  it  in  joy,  my  comfort  as  well  as  my  thankfulness 
may  rest  solely  on  Him. 

"  I  begin  a  new  life,  with  new  duties,  new  responsi- 
bilities, and  I  heartily  pray  that  I  may  fulfil  them  in  that 
Christian  spirit  which  may  in  some  measure  atone  for  the 
imperfection  in  their  performance ;  and  that  he  whom  I 
so  dearly  love  may  together  with  me  grow  daily  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth  and  in  the  love  of  God,  may  He 
of  his  goodness  grant  by  the  assistance  of  his  Spirit.  I 
feel  myself  sadly  wanting  in  submission,  often  failing  in 
thankfulness,  wayward  in  the  midst  of  blessings,  ruffled 
by  the  merest  trifles  ;  the  pride  and  self-will  in  my  heart 
are  continually  struggling  against  my  better  feelings,  but 
they  will,  I  trust,  not  always  gain  the  victory,  and  when 
no  higher  motives  have  influence,  the  strength  of  earthly 
affection  will  do  much.  Why  do  not  we  fear  to  grieve 
Him,  from  whom  we  receive  all,  as  much  as  we  do  to 
cause  one  painful  feeling  to  our  nearest  earthly  friend  ? 
My  own  Augustus !  I  must  not  love  you  too  much,  or 


JOURNALS "THE    GREEN    BOOK.  1 33 

God  in  his  wisdom  will  recall  my  wandering  affections  to 
Heaven,  by  taking  from  me  that  which  makes  Earth — 
Heaven. 

"  Nov.  29. —  Augustus  read  in  the  morning  service 
to-day  Doddridge's  paraphrase  on  the  1st  of  St.  John, 
which  wants  only  simplifying  in  the  words  to  make  it 
intelligible  to  the  ignorant.  Sunday  is  always  a  day  of 
rejoicing  with  me,  and  I  love  my  dear  Augustus  more 
than  usual  when  he  has  been  exerting  himself  for  the 
good  of  his  people. 

"Dec.  2. — With  what  a  characteristic  dispute  about 
greatness  does  the  18th  of  Matthew  open.  This  is  the 
constant  struggle  now  as  then,  and  the  simplicity  and 
humbleness  of  a  child  are  as  little  to  be  met  with  in  these 
days  of  knowledge  and  learning  as  in  those  of  ignorance 
and  poverty.  '  By  their  angels  in  Heaven,'  sounds  to  me 
very  strongly  as  if  there  were  appropriate  spirits  to  min- 
ister to  each  faithful  Christian.  Augustus  has  been 
reading  Coleridge  this  evening.  Nothing  jean  be  more 
delightful  than  his  style  when  not  involved  in  obscurity ; 
I  certainly  prefer  it  to  Landor. 

"Dec.  13. — We  have  had  a  long  talk  about  the 
heathen  philosophers.  Augustus  thinks  it  is  to  the 
crumbs  of  truth  they  picked  up  that  the  verse  '  God  has 
not  left  himself  without  a  witness  '  may  be  spiritually 
applied,  —  that  they  might  from  the  Hebrew  poetry  and 
prophecies  gain  some  light.  Coleridge's  opinion  is  that 
they  had  themselves  a  providential,  though  not  a  miracu- 
lous, dispensation  to  raise  their  intellect  above  the  sen- 
sible world,  —  to  spiritualize  their  ideas.  How  inefficient 
this  was,  is  proved  by  the  fall  of  their  theories  into 
epicurism  amongst  the  Romans.  The  Stoics  were  aus- 
tere moralists,  the  falseness  of  whose  system  was  soon 


134  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

detected,  and  consequently  rejected  by  those  who  liked 
to  live  for  pleasure ;  and,  just  when  the  religion  of  the 
Jews  had  become  corrupt,  and  the  philosophy  of  the 
heathens  sunk  into  Atheism,  Christianity  rose  with  re- 
viving force.  At  no  other  time  could  it  have  been  spread 
so  rapidly  or  extensively  as  when  all  countries  in  the 
civilized  world  were  subject  to  one  power,  and  connected 
with  t>ne  another  through  this  medium.  The  Reforma- 
tion was  a  resurrection  of  Christianity,  which  was  re- 
peated in  England  after  the  French  Revolution  by  the 
Methodists. 

"  Christmas  Day,  1829.  —  This  blessed  day  is  the  first 
since  we  have  been  so  blessed  by  the  gift  of  each  other. 
How  my  heart  swelled  within  me  on  receiving  the  cup 
of  blessing  from  my  husband's  hands  at  the  altar  of  our 
own  little  church,  where  he  read  with  so  much  feeling 
and  earnestness  those  beautiful  words  of  comfort,  en- 
couragement, and  prayer.  I  never  felt  them  come  so 
much  home  to  my  feelings  ;  and  imperfect  and  cold  as 
my  best  attempts  are  to  realize  to  myself  the  presence  of 
Christ,  I  trust  that  these  will  be  accepted,  and  that  God 
will  grant  to  me  a  daily  increasing  knowledge  of,  and 
love  for,  my  blessed  Saviour.  That  we  may  assist  and 
help  each  other  in  the  love  of  spiritual  things,  is  my 
earnest  desire  and  prayer;  and  never  do  I  feel  more 
thankful  for  my  present  happy  life  than  when  we  unite 
in  these  feelings  and  wishes.  It  was  a  thorough  Christ- 
mas Day.  The  sun  shone  bright  upon  a  Lapland  snow, 
and  there  was  a  wholesome  clearness  in  the  air,  invigor- 
ating to  mind  and  body. 

"Dec.  31. — We  have  reached  the  end  of  this  happy, 
blessed  year,  1829.  It  has  given  to  each  of  us,  I  believe, 
that  which  is  more  precious  than  any  other  gift  of  God, 


JOURNALS "THE    GREEN    BOOK."  1 35 

and  not  one  anticipation  of  the  happiness  attending  our 
union  has  been  in  vain.  Seven  months  have  we  now 
been  one,  and  not  one  cloud  has  come  between  us ;  each 
day  seems  only  to  draw  us  more  closely  together,  and  to 
unite  our  thoughts  and  feelings  more  intimately.  Let 
this  conviction  produce  in  our  hearts  true  thankfulness 
to  Our  Father  who  has  given  such  earthly  happiness, 
and  make  us  watchful  lest  it  grow  into  a  too  engrossing 
feeling,  excluding  that  higher  love  to  which  it  should  be 
subject. 

"  Jan.  i,  1830.  —  The  new  year  begins  most  brightly 
and  happily,  but  I  scarcely  like  to  look  on  to  its  events  ; 
for  when  the  present  is  so  blest,  one  cannot  but  fear  the 
changes  which  may  be  wrought.  But  my  trust  must  not 
fail,  for  God  can  give  us  strength  to  bear.  May  He  lead 
us  daily  and  yearly  nearer  and  nearer  to  himself,  that 
our  cold  hearts  may  glow  with  more  love  of  heavenly 
things,  and  be  weaned  from  dependence  on  any  thing 
earthly.  May  I  perform  the  new  duties  which  are 
opened  to  me  with  the  humility  of  a  little  child,  conscious 
of  my  own  unworthiness,  and  seeking  earnestly  for  help 
in  all  my  struggles  after  holiness. 

"Jan.  10. — Julius  is  here,  and  reads  to  us  in  the 
evenings.  He  enjoys  a  story  with  all  the  simplicity  of  a 
child.  In  church,  his  reading  of  the  lessons  and  prayers 
was  most  solemn  and  devotional,  but  in  the  sermon  his 
tone  rather  wants  variety  and  energy.  Nothing  could  be 
better  and  plainer  than  the  words  of  his  sermon,  and  the 
thoughts  were  beautiful.  I  particularly  liked  his  allusion 
to  our  love  of  tracing  things  from  their  beginnings,  &c, 
and  the  showing  how  knowledge  is  not  the  one  thing 
needful,  —  how  much  we  need  a  Redeemer,  &c.  I  think, 
however,  for  the  audience  he  spoke  to,  that  little  would 


I36  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

be  understood  of  the  natural  longing  after  good  ;  and  the 
classical  allusions  rather  proceeded  from  the  scholar 
than  the  parish-priest.  I  long  for  him  to  be  thrown  more 
into  the  world,  that,  by  mixing  with  different  classes  of 
society,  his  theories  may  become  less  visionary. 

Jan.  28.  —  It  grieves  me  to  have  to  part  with  Julius 
just  as  we  were  becoming  more  intimate,  but  the  moment 
of  parting  calls  forth  the  real  feeling,  and  his  farewell 
speech  of  how  happy  it  made  him  to  have  a  real  sister 
was  a  great  delight. 

"  Jan.  28. — When  I  come  to  study  any  subject,  it 
always  appears  to  branch  off  into  so  many  channels,  and 
there  arise  before  me  so  many  points  on  which  I  am 
ignorant,  that,  instead  of  keeping  steadily  to  one,  my 
mind  is  apt  to  glance  off  to  all  the  various  means  before 
me,  —  gleaning,  perhaps,  a  little  from  each,  but  not  mak- 
ing any  completely  my  own.  To  be  sure,  the  more  one 
knows,  the  more  one  must  sink  before  one's  self  in  con- 
sciousness of  utter  ignorance,  and  before  the  overwhelm- 
ing force  of  all  the  materials  for  human  knowledge, 
spread  out  in  all  ages,  and  so  little  made  use  of  as  they 
should  be. 

"I  am  interested  in  reading  connectedly  the  Mosaic 
history  —  how  constantly  and  immediately  God  presided 
over  the  Israelites  —  how  entirely  their  laws  were 
adapted  to  every  particular  occasion,  not  general  in 
principle  —  how  strongly  the  necessity  of  atoning  for  sin 
is  shown  forth  in  the  sacrificial  ordinances. 

"Feb.  11.  —  If  substance  means  literally  what  is  be- 
neath, to  understand  a  thing  must  be  to  find  out  that 
substance,  —  to  penetrate  below  the  surface  to  what  lies 
under.  If  nobody  professed  to  understand  a  thing  who 
had  not  thus  stood  under  it,  and  seen  its  deeper  and 


JOURNALS  —  "THE   GREEN   BOOK."  1 37 

hidden  parts,  how  much  error  and  confusion  would  be 
saved  !  How  equally  does  God  proportion  things,  that 
where  outer  trials  are  wanting,  inner  ones  are  created 
by  the  perversity  of  our  own  hearts.  The  system  of 
indulgence  under  which  I  have  always  lived  makes  any 
thing  less  of  ease  and  comfort  seem  a  hardship  which 
requires  compassion ;  and  I  find  that  while  great  sac- 
rifices, by  calling  out  a  degree  of  admiration,  are  a 
means  of  fostering  our  self-love,  little  ones  which  often 
do  not  cost  us  less  are  more  salutary,  because  they  pass 
unnoticed.  I  grievously  need  a  more  humble  and  sub- 
missive faith,  a  more  perfect  trust  in  the  Divine  will. 
If  this  were,  indeed,  attained,  all  would  be  peace,  and  it 
is  the  weakness  of  our  faith  which  leads  us  to  murmur, 
to  grieve,  or  to  be  anxious.  I  have  much,  very  much  to 
learn.  God  grant  me  grace  to  learn  of  Christ  to  gain 
more  of  the  spirit  of  child-like  meekness  and  more 
resignation  to  his  will. 

"  jfune  2,  1830.  —  This  happy  day  has  come  again, 
telling  how  a  long  year  of  happiness  has  been  granted 
to  us.  We  have  lived  over  again  in  memory  every  hour 
as  it  passed  of  that  eventful  day,  and  rejoiced  in  feeling 
how  much  nearer  and  closer  is  the  tie  that  binds  us  than 
it  was  even  then ;  and  I  more  especially  enjoy  the  re- 
membrance of  that  which  first  secured  to  us  our  present 
comfort  whilst  it  is  undisturbed  by  all  the  painful  and 
agitating  feelings  of  the  last  2d  of  June.  How  can  we 
be  grateful  enough  for  so  much  of  earthly  blessing ;  and 
yet  how  often  am  I  half  disposed  to  murmur,  or  at  least 
grieve,  that  others  are  not  added,  of  which  I  know  not 
if  they  would  contribute  to  my  happiness.  God  knows 
what  is  best,  and  in  his  hands  I  can  mostly  rest  my 
hopes,  though  the  flesh  is  weak,  and  will  sometimes 
presume  to  wish  for  itself. 


IX. 

VILLAGE    DUTIES. 

"  What  an  union  for  two  believers  is  a  Christian  marriage, 
—to  have  one  hope,  one  desire,  one  course  of  life,  one  ser- 
vice of  God  in  common  the  one  with  the  other  !  Both,  like 
brother  and  sister,  undivided  in  heart  and  flesh,  or  rather 
really  two  in  one  flesh,  fall  down  together  on  their  knees, 
they  pray  and  fast  together,  they  teach,  they  exhort,  they 
bear  one  another  mutually  ;  they  are  together  in  the  church 
of  God,  and  in  the  Supper  of  the  Lord ;  they  share  with 
one  another  their  grievances,  their  persecutions,  and  their 
joys  ;  neither  hides  any  thing  from  the  other,  neither  avoids 
the  other ;  the  sick  are  visited  by  them  with  pleasure,  and 
the  needy  supported ;  psalms  and  hymns  resound  between 
them,  and  they  mutually  strive  who  shall  best  praise  their 
God.  Christ  is  delighted  to  see  and  hear  things  like  these ; 
He  sends  his  peace  on  such  as  these  ;  where  two  are,  there 
is  He,  and  where  He  is,  evil  comes  not."  —  Tertullian. 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"Alton,  Jan.  4,  183 1.  —  Julius  is  here.  He  preached 
on  Sunday  on,  *  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd,  therefore  can 
I  lack  nothing.'  It  was  a  beautiful  New  Year's  sermon, 
—  the  latter  part  referring  strongly  to  the  present  state 
of  things,  —  the  want  of  security ;  how  an  Englishman's 
house  was  no  longer  his  castle ;  warning  them  against 
evil  advisers  —  agents  of  Satan,  going  about  in  sheep's 
clothing  —  in  reality  their  bitterest  enemies  ;  that  every 
newspaper  is   now  telling  to  what  end   their  counsels 


VILLAGE   DUTIES.  1 39 

lead  in  this  world,  and  they  must  know  what  it  would  be 
in  the  next,  &c.  He  ended  by  a  prayer,  beginning, 
'Heavenly  Shepherd.'  He  was  more  animated,  and  I 
think  the  sermon  was  more  of  an  address  than  last  year. 
Still  it  had  his  usual  faults  of  being  too  much  drawn  out 
without  a  point  to  rest  upon,  if  you  know  what  I  mean  — 
not  leaving  any  very  distinct  impression  as  to  the  tenor 
of  the  whole  argument ;  and  further,  the  scriptural  part 
seemed  rather  as  if  added  to,  than  moulded  together  with, 
the  philosophical  deductions.  I  suppose  he  never  thinks 
it  dull  here.  Several  evenings  he  read  out  pieces  in 
Milton's  Reformation,  which  is,  to  be  sure,  a  different 
English  from  the  present,  and  strong  enough.  He  and 
Augustus  had  a  long  argument  on  Sunday  evening  as  to 
how  far  Milton  was  responsible  for  the  savage  expressions 
he  uses  towards  the  bishops  of  his  own  day ;  Augustus 
maintaining  that  in  men  of  genius,  that  was  the  mode  of 
temptation  to  evil  passions  ;  Julius  asserting  that  he  did 
not  really  feel  it,  and  that  it  was  merely  imaginative 
violence  and  manner  of  expressing  the  principle  of 
hatred  towards  what  was  bad.  ...  I  have  been  obliged 
with  Julius,  &c,  to  put  in  a  word  for  Evangelicals,  feel- 
ing as  I  do,  that,  however  bigoted  on  many  points,  and 
however  inconsistent  occasionally,  and  however  pre- 
sumptuous and  absurd,  there  is  amongst  them  more 
of  real  influential  piety  and  spirituality  of  mind  than 
amidst  most  of  the  accusers  ;  and  that  taking  out  a  few 
such  exceptions  as  Arnold,  Arthur  Perceval,  &c,  they 
are  more  likely  to  do  good  as  clergy  than  the  opposite 
party." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"  Sunday  after   Christmas,    1830.  —  It   should   have 
been  the  blessed  Christmas  night  itself  that  I  wrote  to 


140  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

my  own  Lucy,  but  I  was  otherwise  engaged  last  night,  and 
this  evening  will  serve  as  well  to  share  with  you  the  joy 
of  this  season,  and  say  how  I  have  felt  that  we  were  one 
in  the  services  and  rejoicings  of  the  past  two  days.  A 
bright  sunshine  and  clear  frost  seem  to  belong  to  Christ- 
mas, and  give  outwardly  the  cheerful  brightness  which 
one's  inner  man  is  led  to  feel  in  dwelling  on  the  glad 
tidings  this  day  brought.  It  is  the  custom  here  for  the 
carols  to  be  sung  in  the  night,  and  it  is  so  delightful  to 
be  waked  out  of  sleep  by  the  many  voices  below  our 
window,  proclaiming  Christ  to  be  born  in  Bethlehem. 
There  is  something  in  the  stillness  being  so  broken,  with- 
out any  visible  change,  which  thrills  through  one's  very 
heart.  What  joy  and  happiness  those  lose  who  care 
nothing  for  that  Saviour  so  freely  offered,  and  who  would 
cling  to  the  cold  formalities  of  natural  religion,  putting 
aside  so  entirely  the  merciful  link  connecting  us  with 
heaven.  It  does  seem  to  me  also  a  wonderful  perversion 
of  human  understanding  to  find  in  Scripture  any  ground 
for  lowering  the  nature  of  that  Saviour,  and  making  Him 
less  than  God.  I  have  been  the  more  struck  with  the 
inconsistency  lately,  having  compared  the  different  pas- 
sages on  the  subject,  and  both  directly  and  indirectly 
the  evidence  does  appear  so  unanswerable.  Was  it  not 
Erasmus  who  said  he  understood  the  Bible  till  he  began 
to  look  at  commentators  ?  I  think  I  almost  agree  with 
him.  .  .  . 

"  You  cannot  think,  in  my  visitings  away  from  home, 
how  fearful  I  often  feel  lest  I  should  be  seeming  to  agree 
too  much  with  one  side  or  the  other  j  but  the  fact  is  that, 
when  I  hear  fresh  instances  of  party  spirit,  of  presump- 
tion, and  of  that  ugly  thing  called  cant,  I  cannot  help 
agreeing  in  the  condemnation  of  such  unchristian  con- 


VILLAGE   DUTIES.  I4I 

duct,  though  generally  giving  most  of  the  accounts  the 
credit  of  exaggeration  j  and  then,  on  the  other  side,  when 
I  see  how  much  more  of  real  spiritual  feeling  there  is 
amongst  those  who  are  called  evangelical,  I  cannot  help 
preferring  their  society  and  conversation,  although  I  dis- 
like exceedingly  the  notion  of  belonging  to  a  sect,  or  of 
thinking  all  Christianity  void  that  is  out  of  it.  In  short,  it 
always  ends  in  my  going  to  the  Book,  where  there  is  not 
one  following  of  Paul  or  another  of  Apollos,  but  Christ  is 
all  in  all,  and  where  the  simplicity  is  so  strikingly  con- 
trasted with  the  color  given  by  all  human  authorities, 
and  where  humility  and  charity  are  the  graces  most 
earnestly  inculcated.  My  chief  feeling,  in  hearing  an- 
ecdotes unfavorable,  is  the  longing  that  those  to  whom 
they  relate  could  know  how  much  discredit  they  bring 
on  the  doctrine  they  wish  to  adorn,  by  too  formal  ad- 
herence to  the  letter  without  regarding  its  spirit;  and 
though  it  would  be  worse  than  mean  to  compromise  what 
is  really  essential,  I  do  think  much  harm  is  done,  or  at 
least  many  a  stumbling-block  is  laid,  by  attaching  so 
much  importance  as  some  do  to  trifles,  and  by  the  jeal- 
ous fear  of  being  too  liberal.  Excellent  as  are  many  of 
the  religious  books  of  the  present  day,  I  believe  that 
were  religious  teaching  to  be  confined  more  exclusively 
to  the  Bible,  it  would  be  more  wholesome,  and  that  fewer 
errors  would  be  taken  up ;  and  in  the  same  way  I  think 
that,  delightful  as  the  communication  is  with  those  who 
agree  with  you  on  religious  points,  the  kind  of  religious 
conversations  held  between  people  of  the  same  opinion 
has  a  great  tendency  to  breed  party-spirit  and  nourish  a 
degree  of  self-conceit." 

"March  20.  —  I  fully  understand  your  feeling  of  pre- 
ferring a  life  which  has  its  crook.     I  do  believe  that  fol- 


142  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

lowing  only  one's  own  pleasure  and  having  no  call  for 
exertion  is  not  only  the  least  wholesome,  but,  taking  it 
all  in  all,  the  least  happy  way  of  passing  life.  I  am  sure 
I  always  find  it  so ;  and  that  to  have  sacrificed  one's 
own  inclination  in  ever  so  trifling  a  way  is  always  repaid 
doubly.  I  cannot  tell  you  with  what  joy  I  look  forward  to 
this  spring,  in  the  hope  of  getting  you  here  ;  but  I  would 
earnestly  guard  you,  in  coming  here,  against  expecting 
too  much,  either  from  our  people,  who  have  as  yet  per- 
haps made  but  little  progress,  or  from  us  who  are  at 
present  but  beginners  in  the  art  of  teaching  others,  and 
perhaps  in  teaching  ourselves.  Oswald  thought  this  the 
dullest  and  the  ugliest  place  he  was  ever  in,  so  you  must 
not  fancy  that  you  will  find  a  Paradise  out  of  doors  of 
beauty,  —  such  there  certainly  is  within  of  love.  But  I 
have  no  fears  of  your  not  being  happy  here." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"  East  Sheen,  May  27,  1831. — .We  came  up  here  on 
Monday.  .  .  .  On  Wednesday  evening  I  went  up  with 
Mrs.  Oswald  Leycester  to  the  Ancient  Music  concert :  we 
had  good  seats  just  before  the  director's  box,  and  were  in 
time  to  see  the  Queen  enter  the  royal  box,  and  hear  the 
'  God  save  King  William  '  struck  up.  With  all  the  discus- 
sions and  feelings  excited  lately,  one  could  not  hear  this 
without  looking  forward  and  feeling  the  unsettled  state  of 
things  just  now ;  nor  could  one  look  at  the  Queen  and 
help  thinking  on  how  frail  a  tenure  her  elevation  might 
perhaps  rest  some  time  hence.  There  was  something 
very  thrilling  —  almost  overpowering  —  to  me,  in  the 
'  God  save  the  King,'  sung  in  chorus,  all  standing  up ; 
and  I  am  now  so  unaccustomed  to  public  places,  that 
even  the  number  of  people,  all  well  dressed,  had  the 


VILLAGE    DUTIES.  143 

effect  upon  me,  as  on  a  child,  of  novelty.  I  was  sorry 
not  to  be  nearer  the  Queen ;  one  has  a  curiosity  about 
such  people,  —  to  see  how  they  talk  (you  know  what  I 
mean),  whether  they  really  are  amused  and  interested  by 
what  goes  on.  The  selection  was  a  particularly  good 
one,  and  Pasta  sang  gloriously  '  Ombra  Adorata '  and  a 
song  of  Paisiello,  and  one  heard  her  so  perfectly.  The 
harmony  and  melody  of  the  Knyvetts  was  delicious  in 
its  way,  and  I  have  seldom  heard  at  a  concert  less  of 
the  tiresome  music  one  generally  has." 

"Alton,  June  2,  183 1.  —  There  could  not  have  been 
a  more  delightful  day  for  the  celebration  of  our  second 
anniversary.  The  sun  shines  without  a  cloud,  and  every 
thing  looks  as  joyous  and  happy  as  our  hearts  feel.  It 
is  indeed  a  blessed  thing  to  have  had  two  years  of  such 
happiness,  and  this  is  quite  a  fit  day  to  represent  it. 
You  may  suppose  how  Lucy  has  enjoyed  it.  We  had 
the  long  table  and  benches  brought  out  of  the  barn,  and 
put  on  the  grass-plot  under  the  cherry-tree,  by  the  quince, 
and  twenty-five  children  came  at  twelve  o'clock  to  a 
dinner  of  bacon  and  potatoes,  and  gooseberry  pies.  The 
Piles,  Miss  Miller,  &c,  came  to  look  on,  and  had  chairs 
put  out  to  sit  under  the  trees.  What  is  so  common  with 
you,  being  quite  a  new  thing  here,  was  much  thought  of. 
Augustus  said  a  grace  before  and  after,  and  the  children 
sang  their  hymn,  and  each  had  gingerbread  given,  and 
then  away  they  went.  It  was  really  no  expense,  very 
little  trouble,  and  gave  much  pleasure.  The  boys,  being 
out  at  plough  this  afternoon,  are  to  have  their  supper  at 
seven  o'clock ;  and  we,  having  dined  at  three  o'clock, 
are  now  going  —  Augustus  and  I  —  to  take  a  delicious 
ride  together,  and  Lucy  to  enjoy  her  solitary  ramble  on 
the  downs,  with  her  camp-stool  and  Brute. 


144  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Maria  Hare  (Journal). 

"  June  2, 183 1.  —  Our  third  wedding-day !  Two  years 
of  uninterrupted  happiness  have  been  granted  to  us, — 
such  years  as  perhaps  may  never  again  be  permitted  us 
to  enjoy.  We  have  grown  in  love  to  each  other,  and  in 
comfort  with  all  around  us.  Have  we  grown  as  much  as 
we  ought  in  love  and  devotion  of  heart  to  our  Heavenly 
Master?  This  is  a  question  I  hardly  like  to  ask,  for  I 
fear  the  true  answer  would  be  a  mortifying,  self-con- 
demning one.  Something  of  earnestness  in  the  great 
work  appointed  to  us  has,  I  would  hope,  been  added  to 
us ;  a  few  seeds  scattered  amongst  our  people  have,  I 
trust,  been  the  beginning  of  some  good,  which,  by  God's 
blessing,  may  spring  up  even  from  the  weakest  instru- 
ments. But  when  I  look  into  myself  I  find  nothing  there 
but  food  for  sorrow  and  mourning,  that,  with  such  ad- 
vantages of  situation  and  circumstances,  I  have  made  so 
little  progress  in  attaining  a  true  Christian  spirit ;  that  I 
am  so  little  humbled  before  God  j  that  my  faith  is  so 
weak,  my  trust  so  wavering.  Oh,  my  God  and  Saviour, 
do  thou  listen  to  my  earnest  prayer !  Take  from  me 
the  coldness  and  deadness  of  heart  I  so  often  feel  in 
spiritual  things.  Enlighten  me  by  Thy  Word  of  Truth 
to  see  and  know  Thy  will,  and  by  the  Holy  Spirit  assist- 
ing me,  enable  me  to  struggle  without  ceasing  in  bring- 
ing my  thoughts  and  affections  into  obedience  to  the 
Cross  of  Christ.  Help  me  to  subdue  every  selfish  and 
wayward  feeling,  every  desire  lifting  itself  up  against 
Thy  will,  and  make  me  to  feel  what  immense  causes  I 
have  for  thankfulness  to  Thee.  This  day  united  us  for 
ever  upon  earth.  Oh,  may  it  be  the  forerunner  only  of 
that  more  perfect  union  we  may  hereafter  enjoy  in 
heaven  !  Do  Thou,  gracious  Lord,  be  with  my  husband, 
softening  his  heart  more  and  more  into  perfect  love  for 


VILLAGE    DUTIES.  145 

Thy  service,  strengthening  his  faith,  and  filling  him  with 
that  joyful  communion  and  heavenly  peace  which  Thou 
dost  bestow  on  Thy  true  believers.  We  must  look  for- 
ward to  times  when  all  may  not  go  on  as  smoothly  as  it 
now  does.  Troubles  and  sorrows  must  come ;  and  I  feel 
at  times  a  painful  dread  lest  there  should  be  found  want- 
ing a  chastening  hand  to  wean  me  from  a  too  great  love 
for  the  things  of  this  life,  and  from  placing  my  affections 
too  entirely  on  earthly  objects.  I  have  been,  with  one 
exception,  perhaps  too  prosperous,  and  my  life  has  too 
little  call  for  self-sacrifice  to  be  altogether  as  wholesome 
as  it  might  be.  I  must  endeavor  to  supply  the  need  of 
outward  teaching  by  a  more  watchful  self-examination, 
a  more  diligent  study  of  God's  Word,  and  more  earnest 
and  unremitting  prayer  for  help  and  support.  May  God 
in  his  mercy  quicken  my  feeble  wishes,  and  bring  them 
into  reality  and  fulfilment." 

Augustus  W.  Hare  (Note-Book). 

u  Whitsunday.  —  Who  has  not  seen  the  sun  on  a  fine 
spring  morning  pouring  his  rays  through  a  transparent 
white  cloud,  filling  all  places  with  the  purity  of  his 
presence,  and  kindling  the  birds  into  joy  and  song? 
Such,  I  conceive,  would  be  the  constant  effects  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  on  the  soul,  were  there  no  evil  in  the  world. 
As  it  is,  the  moral  sun,  like  the  natural,  though  'it 
always  makes  a  day/  is  often  clouded  over.  It  is  only 
under  a  combination  of  peculiarly  happy  circumstances 
that  the  heart  suffers  this  sweet  violence  perceptibly,  and 
feels  and  enjoys  the  ecstasy  of  being  borne  along  by 
overpowering,  unresisted  influxes  of  good.  To  most,  I 
fear,  this  only  happens  during  the  spring  of  life;  but 
some  hearts  keep  young,  even  at  eighty." 
7  J 


I46  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"Alton,  June  3,  1831.  —  I  have  only  been  letting  a 
few  days  pass  over  the  heads  of  my  ideas  here,  before  I 
began  to  write.  Every  thing  is  exactly  like  my  expecta- 
tion, except  that  I  had  imagined  too  large  a  scale,  and 
that  I  had  no  idea  how  great  a  difference  there  was 
between  Augustus  known,  and  Augustus  unknown, — 
for  I  never  knew  him  before  in  the  least.  The  second 
day  after  I  came  I  thought  a  little  child  would  look  very 
dear  on  the  little  lawn,  but  I  hardly  think  it  is  necessary 
to  their  perfect  happiness,  —  it  is  so  entire.  For  myself, 
I  can  only  say  the  guest  without  a  husband  is  as  happy 
as  the  hostess  with ;  and,  when  I  was  walking  over  the 
White  Horse's  Tail  yesterday  evening,  I  felt  the  very 
feeling  of  Wordsworth's  Solitary  in  the  'Excursion,' 
when  — '  No  prayer  he  breathed  —  he  proffered  no  re- 
quest.' The  only  alteration  I  wish  is  to  cut  down  half 
the  trees,  but  Augustus  does  not  at  all  agree.  It  is  so 
amusing  to  see  the  interest  the  grave  scholar  takes  in 
his  cow,  and  horse,  and  meadow.  He  came  in  yester- 
day and  said  he  meant  to  water  the  grass  in  the  orchard, 
and  was  very  angry  one  day  because  Maria  and  I  had 
walked  all  through  the  long  grass,  which  was  to  be  cut 
at  five  this  morning.  He  takes  his  daily  round  through 
the  village,  and  returns  with  a  minute  account  to  his 
Mia.  You  would  have  enjoyed  seeing  Maria  yesterday, 
busy  preparing  for  her  school-children,  filling  the  jars 
with  flowers,  placing  the  table  under  the  cherry-tree,  all 
the  children  meanwhile  peeping  through  the  gate  ;  and 
then,  when  all  was  ready,  Augustus  exclaiming,  '  Throw 
open  the  doors,'  —  and  putting  each  happy  little  thing 
in  its  place.  The  feast  concluded  with  the  children 
singing  the  Morning  Hymn,  led  by  Maria.     I  did  enjoy 


VILLAGE   DUTIES.  1 47 

the  day  thoroughly.  It  is  no  difficult  task  to  rejoice 
with  those  who  rejoice,  —  and  rejoice  was  written  in 
every  look  and  action  of  the  two  throughout  the  day. 
Then  we  dined  at  three,  and  I  and  my  camp-stool  went 
to  explore  the  downs.  The  carpet  of  cistus,  and  milk- 
wort and  thyme  there,  is  quite  beautiful.  I  delight  in 
the  downs,  but  they  are  very  fatiguing.  The  only  thing 
I  long  for  is  a  running  brook,  with  forget-me-not.  The 
source  of  the  Avon  is  like  the  outpourings  of  a  soap-tub. 
Likewise  there  is  a  great  scarcity  of  flowers  —  except 
downy  ones. 

Catharine  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Alderley,  July  7, 183 1.  —  We  came  back  from  High- 
lake  by  the  train,  but  in  the  shut  carriages.  There  was 
a  man  killed  on  our  train,  but  we  knew  nothing  of  it  at 
the  time,  but  that  there  was  an  unexplained  stop  of  a 
minute  ;  in  fact  you  know  just  as  much  of  what  goes  on 
in  any  other  part  of  the  train  as  if  you  were  at  Alton. 
There  were  only  three  places  vacant  when  we  went  three 
hours  before  the  time  to  take  our  places.  It  is  more 
like  taking  places  at  a  theatre  than  any  thing  else.  You 
book  yourselves  for  the  seats  you  choose,  and,  having  a 
number  on  your  ticket,  find  your  place  accordingly  in 
the  train.  Another  remark  I  made  was,  how  little  idea 
you  have  of  the  distance  you  pass  over,  when  the  ob- 
jects are  not  previously  known  to  you.  No  road  having 
ever  been  upon  the  line  of  railroad,  of  course  there  are 
no  landmarks,  and,  for  any  thing  one  sees,  the  distance 
might  be  only  twelve  miles.  It  did  seem  marvellous, 
indeed,  to  find  one's  self  at  Huyton  Church,  six  miles, 
in  eight  minutes,  from  Liverpool." 


I48  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"Stoke,  October  10. — .  .  .  When  I  think  how  I  used 
to  complain  of  the  want  of  interest  and  the  dreariness 
here,  which  now  seems  to  me  by  comparison  so  extended 
and  beautiful,  and  think  how  it  never  has  occurred  to 
me,  at  our  little  miniature  of  a  garden  and  house  and 
grounds,  to  feel  a  deficiency,  I  am  fearfully  sensible  what 
a  great  weight  of  happiness  rests  upon  one  person,  and 
how  dependent  I  am  —  upon  what?  Upon  a  Father 
who  loveth  His  children  better  than  any  earthly  parent, 
and  will  never  leave  nor  forsake  them.  We  have  had  a 
delicious  evening  service.  Julius,  who  is  staying  here, 
read  prayers,  and  Augustus  preached,  I  having  just 
before  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  one  of  my  favorite 
cottagers  say  of  the  last  Sunday's  sermon,  *  I  have  never 
had  it  out  of  my  head  since.  I  never  heard  a  minister 
that  satisfied  me  so  well.  I  hope  I  shall  never  forget  it, 
he  went  so  desperate  deep ;  and  told  such  truth,  one 
could  not  but  understand  it.  I  take  it  he  must  be  a  rare 
good  liver  to  preach  like  that' " 


X. 


SUNSHINE. 

"  Every  one  ought  to  read  in  a  triple  book,  ■*• 

—  in  the  book  of  Creatures,  that  he  may  find  God ; 

—  in  the  book  of  Conscience,  that  he  may  know  himself; 
— in  the  book  of  Scripture,  that  he  may  love  his  neighbor." 

Alanus  de  Insulis. 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"  *T^HE  dear  Alton,  Oct.  22,  1831. — A  threatening 
-*  shower  passed  away  before  we  got  into  the  Vale, 
and  the  sun  shone  brightly  as  we  came  over  the  brow ; 
and  said  Augustus,  *  Well,  it  is  not  so  beautiless?  There 
stood  Miss  Miller  and  her  cousin  busy  at  work  in  their 
garden  ;  there  were  the  little  school-girls  at  the  usual 
corner ;  and  some  little  way  farther,  there  came  out  of 
his  cottage-door,  at  the  sound  of  the  wheels,  John  Brown 
himself,  in  his  blue  cap,  which  he  took  off,  stroking  down 
his  hair  as  you  may  see  him  doing,  with  his  honest  wel- 
come. The  dear  little  peaceful  home  !  You  know  what 
my  feeling  is  when  I  come  back  to  it,  and  that  I  have 
scarcely  a  word  ready  to  give  the  servants  who  greet  us, 
so  full  is  my  heart  at  this  moment." 

-l,ucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Corinne  Bay,  Penrhos,  Sept.   28,    183 1.  —  This  has 
been  a  happy  Sunday.     I  could  not  go  to  church,,  and 


150  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

have  spent  most  of  the  morning  and  afternoon  in  my 
rocky  chamber,  with  the  seagulls  and  kittewakes  for  a 
congregation.  Nowhere,  I  think,  •  can  one  enter  more 
into  the  beauty  of  Christ's  discourses  than  by  the  sea, 
where  most  of  His  words  were  spoken.  The  waves,  in 
their  stillness  or  motion,  must  be  the  same  everywhere, 
and  the  sound,  on  our  ear  as  we  read,  was  in  His  when 
he  spoke. 

"  Nov.  7.  —  Now  for  two  happy  hours.  They  all  went 
to  Beaumaris  this  morning,  since  which  I  have  fulfilled 
all  necessary  duties,  and  now  have  established  myself  in 
the  breakfast-room.  The  three  Greek  books  are  ready 
open  ;  my  task  for  to-night,  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth 
verses  of  Matt.  vi.  When  I  was  eating  my  solitary 
dinner  just  now,  I  thought  of  the  last  I  ate  at  Alton, 
with  Brute  by  my  side.  It  is  blowing  a  heavy  gale,  and 
there  are  such  strange  noises  abroad ;  the  dogs  are  snuf- 
fing and  listening  as  if  they  heard  people,  —  growling 
low.  Your  letter  came  just  as  I  was  thinking  of  you 
both  in  prayer,  and  spoke  less  of  earth  than  heaven. 
You  place  me  completely  by  your  side.  How  little  I 
did  what  I  ought  to  have  done  ;  how  much  I  did  which 
I  ought  not  to  have  done  at  dear  Alton,  and  yet  it  is 
very  sweet  to  me  to  think  that  we  are  perhaps  sometimes 
helped  on  our  way  and  fresh  grace  given,  in  answer  to 
the  humble  prayer  of  some  of  Christ's  little  ones,  who 
remember  the  little  word  of  advice  or  comfort  we  offered, 
long  after  our  own  fleeting  thought  of  it  passed  away. 
I  have  been  refreshing  myself  with  some  of  St.  Augus- 
tine's and  St.  Anselm's  meditations,  and  I  always  find 
myself  most  honestly  described  in  the  writings  of  these 
old  Fathers,  —  there  is  such  a  deep  knowledge  of  the 
human  heart,  with  such  simplicity  and  heavenly-minded- 


SUNSHINE.  151 

ness.    They  spoil  one  for  modern  authors.    I  find  Julius 
very  often  in  these  old  men's  quaint  sentences." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley.  • 

"  Saturday  Evening,  Nov.  12,  1831.  —  Augustus  has 
not  gone  down  to  the  Study.  He  is  walking  about  in 
the  drawing-room,  then  sitting  down,  and  scribbling  as 
fast  as  he  can,  then  referring,  it  may  be,  to  the  news- 
papers before  him  ;  for  his  subject  is  the  cholera,  —  his 
text,  I  believe,  is  2  Chron.  vii.  4,  —  and  what  a  subject 
it  is !  How  soon  has  England  followed  the  fate  of  its 
sister  countries,  in  spite  of  that  sea,  which  so  many 
hoped  would  save  it  from  the  scourge.  If  the  evil  really 
comes  home  to  our  own  doors,  God  will,  I  hope  and 
trust,  strengthen  us  to  meet  the  trial.  At  present,  I 
confess,  I  shrink  at  the  prospect,  and  feel  very  faint- 
hearted in  thinking  of  the  winter  before  us.  Sometimes 
I  am  quite  ashamed  of  the  indescribable  dread  I  feel  of 
all  the  trial  of  our  faith  likely  to  beset  us,  and  the  more 
we  love  each  other,  and  enjoy  our  present  happiness, 
the  more  I  tremble  for  the  sad  reverse  it  may  please  God 
to  bring  upon  us.  For  the  first  time,  I  now  really  re- 
joice that  I  have  no  children  to  watch  over  and  add  to 
my  anxieties,  and,  in  the  present  state  of  this  country,  I 
feel  sure  it  is  far  better  to  be  as  independent  of  outward 
circumstances  as  possible.  My  faith  is  sadly  weak  at 
times.  Pray  for  me,  dearest,  that  I  may  have  grace 
given  to  help  and  support  me,  and  to  enable  me  to  set 
my  affections  more  upon  things  above,  and  that  my 
Augustus  may  be  helped  to  rouse  the  sleepers  and  excite 
the  slothful  to  watch  and  be  ready.  The  liability  to 
fevers  in  this  vale  has  taken  away  one's  confidence  in 
the  treeless  openness.  Augustus  brought  from  London 
a  medicine-chest  full  of  the  proper  medicines,  and  he 


152  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

has  been  giving  orders  to  get  the  unsavory  lane  purified, 
as  well  as  a  dry  path  made  for  the  people  to  come  to 
church. 

"  And  now  to  turn  to  a  more  agreeable  subject.  What 
do  you  think  he  brought  me  from  London?  the  most 
beautiful  little  Greek  Testament  you  ever  saw.  Then 
I  have  a  Parkhurst  like  yours.  With  these  excitements, 
I  hope  to  get  on  much  with  Greek,  and,  by-the-bye,  I  can 
comfort  you  with  the  experience  I  have  had,  —  that,  hav- 
ing for  a  long  time  been  forced  to  study  every  word,  and 
fancy  it  was  all  uphill,  and  I  was  getting  on  so  slowly, 
all  at  once  I  found  myself  far  more  advanced  than  I 
thought,  and  got  on  much  more  rapidly.  It  is  much  the 
best  way  to  read  only  a  little,  and  make  yourself  thor- 
oughly mistress  of  it,  as  you  seem  to  be  doing." 

"  Sunday  Evening.  —  How  I  wish  you  could  have  been 
here  to-day,  and  have  heard  the  sermon.  Augustus 
began  by  saying  that  he  should  explain  what  the  danger 
was  that  the  form  of  prayer  alluded  to,  and  entered  into 
all  the  details  respecting  the  disease,  its  beginning,  and 
gradual  approach ;  read  out  of  the  newspaper  the  symp- 
toms, and  also  the  advice  of  the  physicians  about  tem- 
perance and  cleanliness  ;  then  specified  how  this  country, 
from  its  thick  population  and  rapid  communication,  was, 
more  than  any  other,  likely  to  have  it  spread  in  every 
part ;  entered  into  the  details  of  how  every  house  should 
be  ventilated,  and  how  both  personal  and  domestic 
cleanliness  were  essential  as  precautions,  and  all  this 
before  it  came  to  our  doors.  When  it  was  really  come 
—  if  it  did  — '  the  first  thing,  to  put  the  patient  into  a 
bed  as  hot  as  possible,  the  second  thing  to  come  to  ntej 
without  a  moment's  loss  of  time,  —  an  hour's  delay  might 
be  fatal :  he  had  procured  all  the  necessary  medicines. 
When,  from  the  temporal  danger,  and  the  precautions 


SUNSHINE.  153 

necessary,  he  turned  to  the  far  more  important  need  of 
timely  repentance,  and  the  impossibility  in  this  sickness 
of  turning  to  God  at  the  last  hour,  and  was  gradually 
warmed  by  the  subject  to  exhort  and  beseech  their  con- 
sideration of  these  things,  you  may  fancy  how  the  dear 
Augustus's  countenance  was  lighted  up,  and  how  all  the 
feebleness  of  bodily  fear  ^of  which  he  has  by  nature 
much  in  cases  of  danger)  was  subdued  and  conquered 
by  the  bright  hope  within  him  and  the  prospect  of  serv- 
ing his  Lord  and  Master  j  and  when  his  appeal  to  their 
soul's  welfare  ended  by  his  triumphant  question  of, 
'  What  have  Christ's  servants  to  fear  ?  —  a  little  sickness, 
a  few  pangs,  a  plunge  into  the  grave,  and  an  issue  thence 
to  life  and  glory  ! '  the  impression  left  was  far  from  being 
the  melancholy  one  which  all  the  earlier  details  of  his 
sermon  might  have  led  one  to  expect,  and  I  really  feel 
more  comfortable  than  I  have  done  for  some  days.  It 
was  in  Great  Alton  Church,  and  the  people  were,  as  you 
may  suppose,  all  attention,  and  some,  I  believe,  in  tears. 
God  grant  their  hearts  might  be  touched.  Augustus  got 
through  it  very  firmly,  but  could  scarcely  get  through 
the  blessing.  At  this  moment  he  is  resting  upon  the 
sofa,  and  I  have  been  playing  and  singing  the  hymn  in 
times  of  danger,  — '  And  when  Thy  sorrows  visit  us,  oh, 
grant  Thy  patience  too.' " 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"Nov.  22. —  Augustus  is  just  gone  off  to  the  barn, 
having  been  busy  studying  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount ' 
for  to-night.  I  wish  for  you  so  much  in  our  daily  even- 
ing lecture.  Sumner's  book  is  very  good  for  the  pur- 
pose, and,  of  course,  Augustus  puts  in  explanatory  bits 
of  his  own,  and  he  sometimes  reads  one  of  Reginald's 
7* 


154  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

hymns.  The  people  bring  their  Bibles,  and  look  out 
any  references,  and  it  is  just  what  I  have  long  wished 
for.  We  have  to-day  finished,  together,  Malachi,  and 
shall  begin  to-morrow  with  Lowth's  Isaiah.  You,  too, 
will  be  studying  this  prophet,  for  he  is  in  the  course  ; 
so  you  may  think  of  us,  and  I  know  you  like  to  know 
our  line  of  thought  and  stucfy." 

Julius  Hare  to  Maria  Hare. 

"Cambridge,  Nov.  22,  183 1.  —  Very  many  happy  re- 
turns of  the  day  to  you,  dearest  Maria !  and  on  very 
many  iyths  and  22ds  of  November  may  you  and  Augus- 
tus drink  each  other's  healths,  each  of  you  blest  in  see- 
ing the  other  by  your  side,  both  of  you  blest  in  living 
amid  a  flock  to  whom  you  are  administering  the  comforts 
of  earth,  and  whom  you  are  guiding  towards  the  bliss  of 
heaven.  Dearest  Maria,  it  is  a  great  joy  to  think  that 
one  of  my  brothers,  the  dearest  of  them,  is  blest  with  the 
choicest  gift  that  Heaven  can  bestow,  a  good  and  loving 
wife.  For  myself,  though  I  know  full  well  how  to  prize 
it,  though  there  is  nothing  on  earth  that  my  heart  reveres 
so  much  as  the  graces  of  womanly  virtue,  my  destiny 
has  cut  out  a  path  for  me,  from  which  I  can  only  gaze 
at  it  from  afar,  but  which,  God  be  thanked,  has  many 
pleasures  of  its  own,  far  more  than  enough  to  content 
any  heart,  not  a  prey  to  morbid  cravings.  Still,  I  re- 
joice most  heartily  that  one  of  my  brothers  has  met  with 
the  goodlier  lot,  the  choicer  happiness ;  and  may  God 
bless  you,  Maria,  for  being  the  source  of  it,  —  for  making 
Augustus  so  happy  !  I  wish  I  could  give  you  my  greet 
ings  by  word  of  mouth,  and  could  drink  your  healths  ii 
your  presence.  As  it  is,  I  must  content  myself  witl 
doing  so  in  my  lonely  tower ;  and  yet  I  ought  not  to  cal 


SUNSHINE.  155 

it  lonely ;  for  it  is  thronged  with  immortals,  though  the 
outward  shell  of  mortality  is  rarely  seen  in  it. 

"  When  you  come  here  next  spring,  — <•  and,  as  you 
have  set  your  mind  upon  dragging  me  away  from  my 
beautiful  rooms  to  Hurstmonceaux,  in  order  that  you 
may  stay  in  your  beautiless  parsonage  of  Alton,  you  posi- 
tively must  not  put  off  coming  here,  God  willing,  beyond 
the  coming  out  of  the  leaves  next  spring,  —  you  must 
make  yourself  at  home  here  for  at  least  a  week,  and 
then  you  will  have  time  to  find-  out  what  noble-minded 
persons  I  am  living  among. 

"Edward  Stanley  seemed  thoroughly  well  pleased 
with  his  stay  here,  and  told  me  that  our  great  men  were 
the  best  people  .  he  had  ever  met  with,  talking  wisdom 
and  nonsense  in  the  same  breath,  and  with  the  same 
unconstraint,  and  pouring  out  their  knowledge  as  liberally 
as  if  it  was  dross." 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Penrhos,  Nov.  15,  1831.  —  My  week  of  solitude,  un- 
like yours,  has  seemed  only  a  day  long.  I  have  done 
so  much  Greek.  No  study  ever  came  in  one's  way  at  a 
better  time  ;  it  puts  every  thing  else  out  of  my  head  and 
makes  the  hours  fly :  and  living  as  I  do  so  much  alone 
in  thoughts  and  interests,  though  with  many  round,  it  is 
very  wholesome  to  have  some  one  engrossing  study; 
and  to  look  steadily  at  the  times  before  us,  with  the 
almost  certain  approach  of  cholera,  requires  a  steady 
and  continual  practice  of  Faith,  which,  though  I  can 
enforce  strongly,  I  shrink  from  at  times  myself  in  look- 
ing forward  to  all  that  may  be  in  store  for  those  I  love. 
One  thing  always  will  come  into  my  prayers,  —  that  if 
the  cholera  does  come,  it  may  not  reach  Alton. 


I56  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

"  Augustus  would  be  ashamed  of  me  (though  you  will 
not)  if  he  knew  how  I  delight  in  all  the  smallest  things 
you  can  tell  me  about  him,  the  Mia,  and  Alton.  You 
need  never  fear  speaking  of  him,  though  it  be  in  praise. 
Remember  I  have-  lived  under  the  same  roof  for  three 
months,  and  love  him  so  much,  that  I  can  well  under- 
stand your  loving  him  almost  too  much.  If  all  Christian 
pastors  were  like  him,  there  would  be  a  different  spirit 
in  England  now.  The  seed  you  are  now  sowing  in 
Alton  will  not  be  lost,  but  after  many  years  of  persever- 
ance and  trial,  with  God's  blessing  on  your  labor,  may 
we  not  hope  a  little  Christian  band  of  rescued  souls  will, 
from  that  apparently  barren  soil,  enter  into  heaven,  there 
to  prove  your  crown  of  rejoicing? " 

"Dec.  29. — Your  note  has  just  come.  Such  brings 
sometimes  more  comfort  and  love  and  healing  on  its 
wings  than  pages  of  writing.  If  much  talking  is  bad,  a 
word  in  season  is  very  good.  If  God  indeed  is  our  God, 
we  do  well  to  rejoice,  but  very  ill  to  complain  of  any 
little  passing  trouble.  It  is  in  the  storm  and  amid  the 
rocks  that  the  Anchor  and  Beacon  are  most  prized,  and 
many  a  blessed  promise  in  the  Bible  would  remain  a 
sealed  promise,  if  the  key  of  sorrow,  or  trial,  or  tempta- 
tion, were  not  sent  to  open  its  stores,  and  send  warm  to 
one's  heart  such  words  as,  —  'Be  of  good  cheer,  it  is  I, 
be  not  afraid.' 

...  "I  have  been  trying  lately  to  like  old  Jeremy 
as  well  as  I  do  Leighton,  because  Augustus  does,  but  I 
cannot  help  finding  my  greatest  delight  in  the  meek  and 
spiritually  minded  Leighton.  Jeremy  puts  a  great  staff 
into  my  hand,  but  Leighton  does  the  same,  and  at  the 
same  time  puts  a  rose  into  the  other  hand." 


SUNSHINE.  157 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"Jan.  22,  1832.  —  Augustus  has  now  an  evening 
school  on  Mondays,  and  studies  as  much  for  it  as  if  it 
was  a  scientific  work,  in  all  the  school-books,  to  learn 
the  best  mode  of  drawing  out  the  sluggish  understand- 
ing of  his  untaught  lads.  It  has  always  been  a  subject 
of  reproach  to  me  that  we  had  made  no  attempts  to 
teach  this  class,  who  are  above  the  Sunday  school  in  age, 
though  far  below  it  in  knowledge,  and  the  prospect  of 
confirmation  just  gives  us  a  handle  for  instructing  them. 
There  are  many  grown  people  who  express  a  wish  to  be 
confirmed,  and  we  shall  not  dissuade  them,  as  it  affords 
a  pretext  for  talking  and  reading  to  them,  and  enforcing 
an  examination  into  the  state  of  their  souls,  and  may 
eventually  lead  them  to  come  to  the  Lord's  Supper  with 
fewer  scruples  and  more  hope  of  benefit.  Every  way 
opened  for  one  is  so  good  a  thing,  for  it  requires  some 
courage,  and,  I  fear,  more  boldness  than  we  have,  to  press 
the  subject  on  people  uncalled  for. 

"  Jan.  9.  —  The  master  began  his  sermon  on  New 
Year's  Day  by  telling  the  people  what  was  meant  in  the 
world  by  '  a  happy  new  year,'  and  then  dilated  on  what 
he  wished  for  them  by  the  expression,  in  referring  to  that 
blessing  as  including  all  he  could  most  desire  to  be 
granted  them,  and  explaining  to  them  all  it  included.  It 
was  a  very  happy  New  Year's  Day,  and  the  first  week  of 
1832  has  been  most  blessed.  Every  day  we  seem  to 
grow  happier  and  more  united,  and  often  do  I  tremble 
and  turn  away  from  the  thought  that  it  is  so,  in  dread  of 
its  being  thought  fit  to  withdraw  it  from  us. 

"I  quite  long  for  you  to  read  Neander.  To  be  sure 
it  does  make  one  groan  over  the  change  from  early 
Christianity,  and  yet  he  is  so  fair  and  impartial,  he  does 


158  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

not  in  the  least  attempt  to  conceal  that  human  nature  was 
then  just  the  same  as  now, — just  as  prone  to  set  itself 
up  and  rest  in  the  change  produced  by  forms,  just  as 
ready  to  slacken  its  zeal  whenever  persecution  lessened. 
Neander  thinks  so  much  more  of  the  inward  than  outward 
service,  that  you  will  see  he  is  not  very  orthodox  according 
to  our  Church  on  outward  forms  of  government,  &c,  but 
the  Christian  life  he  does  set  forth  most  beautifully,  and 
I  can  hardly  conceive  a  person  reading  through  his  book 
and  not  feeling  more  impressed  with  the  feeling  and 
understanding  of  what  spiritual  Christianity  ought  to  be, 
and  how  it  should  leaven  our  whole  life,  and  amalgamate, 
itself  with  our  habits.  In  a  passage  quoted  from  Ter- 
tullian  on  the  blessings  of  a  Christian  marriage,  you  will, 
I  hope,  think  of  us.  About  prayer  it  is  excellent.  I  will 
quote  a  passage  as  a  specimen :  '  The  spirit  of  thankful- 
ness to  a  heavenly  redeeming  Father,  the  spirit  of  child- 
like resignation  to  Him,  the  feeling  in  regard  to  Him  of 
the  needfulness  of  his  assistance,  and  the  consciousness 
of  being  nothing  and  being  able  to  do  nothing  without 
Him,  must  animate  the  whole  Christian  life.  This  life 
must,  therefore,  be  a  continued  thanksgiving  for  the 
grace  of  redemption,  a  prayer  of  constant  longing  after 
an  increase  of  holiness  by  communion  with  the  Re- 
deemer. This  was  the  view  of  prayer  which  the  New 
Testament  was  designed  to  substitute  in  the  place  of 
that  which  had  previously  prevailed." 

Augustus  W.  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"We  have  just  got  Arnold's  second  volume.  As  far 
as  I  have  seen  them,  the  sermons  are  quite  a  model : 
they  are  aimed  with  great  care  and  skill  at  the  congrega- 
tion he  is  addressing,  and  he  generally  hits  between  wind 


SUNSHINE.  159 

and  water.  You  must  read  them  .  .  .  He  ought 
to  be  a  bishop ;  though  his  promotion  will  occasion  a 
great  outcry.  An  excellent  high-churchman  said  of  him 
the  other  day,  '  I  know  him  and  revere  his  virtues  ;  but 
I  will  not  buy  his  book  :  I  may  perhaps  look  into  it ;  for 
he  is  just  the  man  to  do  incalculable  mischief.'  So  was 
said  of  Wilberforce  ;  so  was  said  of  Luther  j  so  will  ever 
be  said  of  those  clear-voiced  men  whom  God  raises  up 
from  time  to  time  to  speak  plainly  in  the  ears  of  his 
sleeping  people." 

The  intimate  knowledge  which  Augustus  Hare 
had  now  attained  of  all  the  family  and  domestic 
interests  of  his  parishioners  had  drawn  the  tie  be- 
tween pastor  and  people  at  Alton  so  very  close  ; 
and  the  grateful  affection  with  which  they  regarded 
him,  the  warm  welcome  with  which  they  greeted 
him  on  his  morning  walks  (for  the  very  small  size 
of  the  place  enabled  him  to  visit  almost  every  cot- 
tage daily),  had  brought  the  Alton  villagers  so  near 
his  heart,  that  he  looked  forward  with  dread  to  any 
possibility  of  separation,  and  felt  that  in  any  other 
event,  except  that  of  the  wardenship  of  Winchester 
being  offered  to  him,  —  a  post  for  which  he  felt 
himself  peculiarly  qualified,  and  whose  duties  he 
could  not  venture  to  evade,  —  he  could  not  endure 
to  be  separated  from  them.  No  pecuniary  advan- 
tages could  weigh  in  his  mind  against  the  comfort 
of  his  quiet  home,  —  a  home  which  was  not  so 
much  marked  by  any  outward  site,  as  its  founda- 
tions were  laid  deep  within  the  hearts  of  his  peo- 
ple.    Thus  the  prospect  of  the  rich  family  living  of 


l6o  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

Hurstmonceaux,  in  view  of  which  he  had  married, 
and  which  he  knew  would  be  offered  to  him  by  his 
brother,  upon  the  death  of  his  uncle  Robert  Hare, 
had  ceased  to  afford  him  any  pleasure.  Unlike  his 
brothers,  whose  affections  clung  around  its  old 
castle,  and  who  were  attached  by  the  associations 
of  childhood  to  its  every  field  and  wood,  Hurstmon- 
ceaux had  never  been  his  home.  He  had  only 
been  there  on  occasional  summer  visits  with  Lady 
Jones,  and  associated  the  place  with  his  mother's 
increasing  struggles  against  poverty  and  ill  health, 
and  her  complaints  of  the  rudeness  and  uncouth- 
ness  of  its  people,  who  were  contrasted  by  her  with 
the  grateful  peasantry,  to  whom  she  had  been  ac- 
customed near  her  villa  at  Bologna.  He  remem- 
bered also,  that  his  mother  herself,  as  she  observed 
the  nervous  susceptibility  and  delicate  refinement 
of  her  little  Augustus,  had  felt  how  unfitted  he 
would  be  to  cope  with  such  a  people  as  that  of 
Hurstmonceaux  then  was,  and  how  much  she 
would  prefer  seeing  him  established  elsewhere,  and 
her  quick  and  ardent  Julius  in  the  family  living. 
All  these  circumstances  Augustus  had  for  the  last 
year  urged  upon  his  brother  Julius,  entreating  him 
to  take  the  richer  living,  when  it  fell  vacant,  and  to 
leave  him  undisturbed  in  the  humble  rectory  of 
Alton. 

Since  the  death  of  Lady  Jones,  to  whom  he  had 
been  most  tenderly  attached,  and  with  whom  he 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  staying  whenever  he  could 
get  away  from  Cambridge,  Julius  Hare  had  had  no 


SUNSHINE.  l6l 

other  home  than  his  beautiful  rooms  in  the  tower 
overlooking  the  Lime  Avenue  at  the  back  of  Trin- 
ity College.  Here  he  had  rejoiced  in  the  constant 
society  of  a  noble  band  of  friends,  Whewell,  Wors- 
ley,  Peacock,  Thirlwall,  Sedgwick,  —  and,  in  a 
younger  generation,  Sterling,  Trench,  Maurice, 
and    Cavendish. 

At  this  time,  also,  the  professor  of  Italian  at 
Cambridge  was  the  Marchese  Spinetta,  whose 
clever  and  charming  wife  had  been  a  Miss  Camp- 
bell, of  Craigie.  With  her,  in  great  measure,  lived 
her  handsome  sister,  Jane,  widow  of  Sir  Thomas 
Munro,  Governor  of  Madras,  who  had  died  in  India 
in  1827.  A  close  intimacy  with  the  Spinettas  led, 
two  years  after  his  separation  from  his  cousin,  Mrs. 
Dashwood,  to  the  second  engagement  of  Julius 
Hare  with  Lady  Munro,  —  an  engagement  which 
lasted  for  many  years,  far  into  his  Hurstmonceaux 
life. 

Julius  Hare  to  Maria  Hare  (inserted  here  as  belonging  to  the 
subject.) 

"  Trinity »,  August  30,  1831.  —  I  have  two  long  letters 
to  thank  you  for,  dearest  Maria,  and  both  of  them, 
especially  the  latter,  are  exceedingly  delightful  and 
affectionate.  The  subject  of  that  latter  one  being  so 
much  the  most  important,  I  will  say  a  few  words  about 
it  first.  Much  that  Augustus  said,  and  many  of  your 
arguments,  have  had  very  considerable  weight  with  me. 
If  my  blessed  mother's  plan  was  really  such  as  he  says, 
and  events,  in  spite  of  apparent  obstacles,  have  thus,  in 
a  manner,  been  working  together  for  its  fulfilment,  I 

K 


l62  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

should  be  most  loath  to  hinder  it,  for  the  slightest  expres- 
sion of  her  will  would  be  to  me  like  the  law  of  heaven. 
The  greater  fitness  of  a  small  parish  for  Augustus's 
health,  I  also  admit.  I  believe,  too,  there  is  a  greater 
likelihood  of  working  with  efficiency  in  your  parish  than 
at  Hurstmonceaux,  where,  from  all  I  hear,  the  flock  are 
in  a  very  wild  state,  almost  at  enmity  with  their  shep- 
herd. Your  farmers  again  are  a  good  deal  more  trac- 
table than  my  uncle's.  All  this,  on  thinking  over  the 
matter,  I  see  clearly ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  I  do  not 
like  to  think  of  you  shut  up  for  life  in  that  beautiless, 
uninteresting  country,  with  your  no  garden.  The  house 
might  do  very  passably ;  but  the  no  garden  to  me  would 
be  an  insuperable  objection.  However,  of  course  it 
must  rest  with  you  to  balance  between  the  advantages 
and  disadvantages  of  your  present  station  j  if,  when 
Hurstmonceaux  becomes  vacant,  you  still  prefer  remain- 
ing where  you  are,  it  will  then  be  my  duty  to  think 
about  taking  it.  Remember,  however,  that  nothing  that 
has  passed  is  to  be  considered  by  you  as  imposing  any 
obligation  upon  either  of  you.  You  are  at  the  most  per- 
fect liberty  to  change  your  mind  to-morrow,  next  month, 
next  year,  or  whenever  the  living  falls ;  you  excite  no 
expectations  in  me,  no  wishes,  and  consequently  you 
will  disappoint  none.  I  am  always  averse  to  forming 
plans,  to  making  decisions  about  the  future,  which  the 
very  next  month  may  utterly  frustrate ;  and  more  espe- 
cially in  the  present  state  of  England,  how  impossible  is 
it  to  calculate  what  will  be  the  state  of  any  living  in 
England,  or  whether  there  will  be  any  livings  at  all, 
next  year !  If  the  Birmingham  political  union  take  it 
into  their  heads  to  say  there  shall  not,  our  ministers  and 
our  parliament  will  crouch  before  them,   and  execute 


SUNSHINE.  163 

their  decree.  So  far  as  concerns  myself,  I  should 
be  very  sorry  were  any  event  to  happen  soon  which 
would  take  me  away  from  my  present  station.  And  this 
leads  me  to  your  very  kind  sisterly  admonition.  Now 
both  you  and  Augustus  seem  to  me  to  have  forgotten 
that,  according  to  the  principles  and  the  universal  prac- 
tice of  our  Church,  the  education  of  youth  at  both  schools 
and  universities  is  especially  intrusted  to  the  care  of  her 
ministers ;  so  that  he  who  is  engaged  in  that  office  is 
laboring  in  his  vocation.  These  principles  and  this  prac- 
tice seem  to  me  to  be  perfectly  justifiable  and  right.  It 
is  a  narrow  notion  of  the  duties  of  the  Christian  minis- 
try to  conceive  that  a  Christian  minister  is  not  following 
his  calling  unless  he  is  employed  in  pastoral  duties  ; 
though  these  are  perhaps  the  noblest  and  heavenliest 
part  of  his  office.  So  that  if  you  tell  me  I  am  not  per- 
forming my  duty  as  Christ's  minister,  I  will  answer,  Yes. 
But  that  is  owing  to  my  own  weakness  and  waywardness, 
and  is  no  way  chargeable  on  the  post  where  I  am  stand- 
ing. It  is  perfectly  true  that  the  welfare  of  England, 
perhaps  her  very  existence,  depends  mainly  on  the  activ- 
ity and  zeal  of  her  ministers,  and  on  God's  blessing 
prospering  their  endeavors.  But  it  is  also  of  great  im- 
portance, more  especially  at  this  season  of  the  intellect- 
ual chaos,  that  the  fountain-heads  of  knowledge  should 
be  under  proper  care,  and  that  the  young  men  who  go 
forth  by  hundreds  every  year  to  act  in  their  several  call- 
ings should  be  duly  stored  with  sound  principles.  Such 
being  the  case,  I  think  it  may  fairly  be  left  open  to  any 
individual  to  select  that  sphere  of  the  ministerial  duties 
on  which  he  chooses  to  enter  \  supposing  his  choice  be 
regulated  not  by  caprice  or  indolence,  but  by  a  calm 
weighing  of  his  own  qualifications,  and  of  the  good  he  is 


I64  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

likely  to  accomplish.  Now  it  seems  to  me  that  the  task 
I  am  engaged  in  is  of  all  others  the  one  I  am  best  fitted 
for,  by  such  talents  and  acquirements  as  I  possess ;  and 
little  as  may  be  the  good  I  do  here,  I  think  God  has 
so  constituted  me  that  I  might  do  more  good  here  than 
I  could  in  any  other  station.  At  the  same  time,  by 
peculiarly  fortunate  circumstances  of  time  and  place,  by 
being  in  this  glorious  college,  and  having  such  noble 
contemporaries,  I  am  most  singularly  blest.  Several 
times  in  the  course  of  last  summer,  in  conversing  with 
persons  I  became  acquainted  with,  and  hearing  them 
speak  of  their  situation,  did  my  heart  bound  with  grati- 
tude for  my  singularly  favored  lot.  It  would  be  a  sad 
exchange  to  give  up  my  beautiful  rooms,  my  friends 
whose  converse  strengthens  and  steadies  my  mind,  and 
the  brother  of  my  heart,  Worsley,  whose  bright  face 
kindles  a  feeling  of  the  same  sort  in  me  every  time  he 
enters  my  room,  whose  step  is  so  gladdening  a  sound  on 
my  stairs,  for  the  dismal  solitude  of  that  great,  big  house, 
with  not  even  a  cottage  within  half  a  mile  of  it,  and  not 
a  soul  nearer  than  my  friend  Townsend  at  Brighton, 
with  whom  I  should  have  a  thought  in  common.  I  speak 
with  the  utmost  sincerity,  when  I  say  I  do  not  think  I 
should  make  an  efficient  parish  priest.  I  know  not 
what,  but  there  is  an  incapacity  about  me  for  conversing 
with  the  lower  orders  ;  part  of  it  may  be  constitutional  ; 
habit  may  have  much  increased  it ;  the  very  nature  of 
my  pursuits,  of  my  studies  and  speculations,  withdraws 
me  more  than  others  from  the  commerce  of  ordinary 
thought.  I  find  a  great  difficulty  in  carrying  on  a  conver- 
sation except  with  a  very  few  of  my  friends  :  my  thoughts 
don't  seem  to  move  in  the  same  line  as  theirs  ;  my  views, 
my  interests,  seem  to  be  so  different ;  it  is  hard  to  find 


SUNSHINE.  165 

a  point  of  union.  This  grows  upon  me  year  by  year.  I 
know  not  how  to  check  it ;  and  I  fear  I  should  never  get 
over  it.  I  fear  I  should  never  learn  to  talk  to  the  poor 
as  they  ought  to  be  talked  to ;  in  time,  perhaps,  I  might 
learn  to  preach  to  them  ;  but  that  you  know  is  a  very 
small  part  of  what  a  parish  priest  has  to  do.  Thank 
you  again,  dearest  Maria,  for  your  very  kind,  sisterly 
letter.  I  have  tried  to  show  you  that  it  is  not  mere  self- 
ishness that  makes  me  averse  to  exchange,  and  that  I 
am  at  a  post  where,  if  I  work  zealously,  I  shall  be  act- 
ing the  part  of  a  Christian  minister.  At  all  events,  you 
will  see  that  it  is  very,  very  questionable  whether  you 
would  be  consulting  my  happiness  in  placing  me  at 
Hurstmonceaux  ;  and  therefore  you  must  not  allow  such 
a  notion  to  have  any  weight  with  you  in  refusing  it." 

The  news  of  Mr.  Robert  Hare's  death  arrived  at 
Alton  on  the  27th  of  February,  1832;  but  before 
that  time,  having  obtained  the  consent  of  his 
brother  Francis  to  the  transfer,  Augustus  had  se- 
cured the  promise  of  Julius  that  he  would  accept 
the  living  of  Hurstmonceaux.  Both  brothers  went 
into  Sussex  to  attend  their  uncle's  funeral.  Thence 
Augustus  returned  happy  to  Alton,  and  Julius 
made  up  his  mind  to  leave  Cambridge,  but  decided 
.upon  spending  a  year  in  Italy  before  entering  upon 
the  duties  of  his  parish. 

Maria  Hare  to  Augustus  W.  Hare. 

"Feb.  29,  1832.  —  The  eight  o'clock  coffee  is  just 
finished,  —  such  a  good  new  loaf,  pity  the  dear  master  is 
not  here  !  And  now  I  may  talk  to  the  dearest  Augustus 
without  fear  of  interruption.     He  knows  full  well  how  the 


l66  RECORDS    OF    A   QUIET    LIFE. 

fountain  is  bubbling  up  at  the  very  thought  of  him,  and 
how  ready  it  is  to  pour  itself  over  on  the  paper.  I  should 
like  to  know  where  you  are  this  evening,  whether  at 
some  dirty  inn,  or  at  Julius's  Rectory.  God  be  with  you 
wherever  you  are,  and  watch  over  you,  and  bring  you 
safe  back  to  the  loving  wine,  the  dearest,  the  Mia.  I 
think  she  cannot  ever  have  loved  you  before  when  you 
have  been  away.  It  was  only  make-believe.  Now  it  is 
real,  if  there  is  reality  in  any  thing." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"Feb.  29,  1832.  —  You  will  guess  what  we  felt  on 
Monday  when  the  packet  of  letters  came  in,  and  three 
with  black  seals  at  once  convinced  us  what  had  hap- 
pened. Certainly,  the  first  sensation  was  joy,  to  think 
that  every  thing  was  settled,  and  that  there  was  no  longer 
a  question  left  about  our  leaving  Alton.  We  could  not 
help  putting  ourselves  in  a  different  situation,  and  fancy- 
ing what  we  should  have  felt  had  it  been  otherwise  ;  and 
I  think  Julius  would  have  been  quite  satisfied,  had  he 
heard  us,  that  we  had  acted  for  our  own  comfort.  I 
daresay  with  the  additional  income  we  should  not  have 
been  able  to  do  half  so  much  for  our  people  there,  and 
so  much  would  have  had  to  be  spent  in  imprqfitable  ways  ; 
and  when  we  were  vainly  striving  to  excite  some  feeling 
amongst  a  scattered  people  living  at  a  distance,  how# 
often  should  we  have  thought  of  our  little  family  at 
Alton  with  regret  and  sorrow.  No  :  I  am  quite  certain 
we  have  decided  for  our  own  happiness,  and,  hoping  as 
we  do,  that  it  may  be  a  means  of  calling  forth  all  Julius's 
power  for  the  good  of  others,  I  cannot  think  we  have 
been  wrong  in  following  our  own  inclinations." 

"March   13  {Sunday  evening).  —  This   has   been  so 


SUNSHINE.  167 

beautiful  a  day,  that  as  I  was  walking  about  the  fields 
between  services,  and  studying  my  afternoon's  lesson  for 
the  children,  it  made  me  seem  to  see  you  and  your  class 
under  the  trees  on  those  lovely  summer  Sundays  last 
year.  I  do  love  a  fine  Sunday ;  it  seems  to  cheer  and 
lighten  the  way  to  God's  house,  and  fill  one's  heart  with 
deeper  thoughtfulness,  to  know  all  alike  can  enjoy  it  \ 
and  the  dear  Augustus  was  so  earnest,  and  applied  his 
subject  so  home,  that  I  do  trust  the  seed  might  not  fall 
quite  in  vain  on  some  hearts  present." 

Julius  Hare  to  Maria  Hare.. 

*  "  Trinity,  March  9,  1831. — Your  sisterly  letter  came 
at  a  time  when  it  was  most  acceptable  ;  for,  finding  that 
half  measures,  as  usual,  were  good  for  nothing,  I  betook 
myself  to  my  bed  altogether  last  Friday,  determined  not 
to  leave  it  till  my  foot  had  regained  its  usual  dimensions. 
You  will,  perhaps,  tell  me  that  my  malady  lias  sent  to 
convince  me  that  a  college  is  not  quite  such  an  Elysium 
as  I  appeared  to  fancy,  and  that,  at  all  events,  it  is  a  bad 
place  to  be  ill  in.  To  be  sure,  as  Worsley  is  not  here,  I 
have  had  a  very  great  number  of  lonely  hours  these  last 
three  weeks,  seldom  interrupted  except  by  a  flying  visit 
of  inquiry  or  two  ;  and  with  no  great  aversion  to  solitude, 
still,  not  being  in  a  plight  for  hard-working,  I  should  not 
have  been  sorry  to  have  heard  a  little  more  of  the  human 
voice.  The  letters  of  my  friends,  however,  —  and  espe- 
cially, as  women  know  best  how  to  comfort  a  sick-bed, 
of  my  female,  friends,  —  have  supplied  me  with  a  de- 
lightful substitute  for  it  \  and,  among  them,  yours  has 
chimed  in  very  sweetly  with  those  I  "have  received  from 
Anna  and  Lady  Munro.  What  I  said  to  Augustus  will 
have  proved  to  you,  that  unless  he  has  changed  his 


1 68  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

mind,  which  I  did  not  think  likely,  mine  is  made  up. 
As  I  was  talking  to  Thirl  wall  on  the  subject  the  other 
day,  and  speaking  of  my  happy  removal  hither,  and  of 
the  well-spent  ten  years  I  have  passed  here,  he  said, 
1  Yes,  this  has  been  a  very  pleasant  Purgatory ;  may 
your  next  removal  be  to  a  Paradise  ! '  This  struck  me 
the  more,  superstitious  as  I  am,  from  its  coincidence 
with  the  expression  I  made  use  of  in  my  letter  to  Augus- 
tus. Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  whether  Hurstmon- 
ceaux  is  to  be  a  paradise  to  me  or  a  wilderness,  or,  as  is 
more  likely,  something  between  the  two,  —  my  lot  is  now 
cast.  I  am  to  quit  this  goodly  college,  with  all  its  goodly 
inmates,  and  to  take  up  my  rest  there,  in  all  probability 
for  life.  Indeed,  when  I  have  once  grown  familiar  to  it, 
I  think  hardly  any  thing  in  the  world  would  ever  induce 
me  to  leave  it.  I  agree  entirely  with  you  that  '  a  life  of 
mere  literary  activity  is  not  all  that  is  required  from  a 
minister  oi»  Christ's  Church ; '  indeed,  for  my  own  part, 
I  do  not  think  a  life  of  mere  literary  activity  can  be 
wholesome  for  anybody,  it  ought  always  to  be  combined 
more  or  less  with  practical  activity.  If  I  were  not  en- 
gaged in  tuition,  I  would  grant  to  you  that  my  present 
life  is  not  suited  to  my  profession ;  but,  by  the  practice 
of  our  Church,  as  well  as  that  of  the  Roman  Catholic, 
the  education  of  youth  has  been  consigned  almost  exclu- 
sively to  the  clergy ;  nor  do  I  think  it  at  all  desirable 
that  the  clergy  who  are  employed  in  this  task  should 
combine  it  with  the  cure  of  souls.  That  this  practice 
of  committing  education  to  the  clergy  is  wise  and 
wholesome,  I  do  not  think  you  will  deny :  if  you  do,  I 
will  leave  Augustus  to  prove  to  you  that  it  is  so;  but 
this  you  leave  wholly  out  of  sight  in  your  objections  to 
my  merely  literary  life.     The  question  then  ought  to  be, 


SUNSHINE.  169 

there  being  these  two  posts  for  a  clergyman  to  fill,  for 
which  I  am  the  fittest,  naturally  and  by  my  acquire- 
ments ?  I  fear  such  a  question  must  be  answered  in 
favor  of  my  staying  where  I  am,  so  that  I  have  many 
scruples  of  conscience  to  mingle  with  my  numerous 
personal  regrets.  However,  as  it  is  the  sad  wedding 
that  makes  the  happy  marriage,  so  he  who  feels  no  pain 
at  leaving  one  home,  is  never  likely  to  find,  and  indeed 
does  not  deserve,  to  find  another.  Happy  are  they  who 
discover  objects  of  interest  and  attachment  wheresoever 
it  pleases  God  to  place  them ;  and  I  believe  He  has 
blest  me  with  the  power  of  doing  so  in  rather  more  than 
an  ordinary  degree. 

"  It  was  singular  that  it  was  only  on  the  Saturday  night 
I  sent  to  Thirlwall  the  last  page  of  our  second  volume 
of  '  Niebuhr,'  containing  our  little  prefatory  note,  and 
on  the  Sunday  morning  I  heard  of  my  uncle's  death. 
But  there  is  still  a  third  volume  to  come ;  and  I  am 
already  engaged  in  the  Philological  Museum,  which, 
though  I  trust  it  will  not  stop,  will  hardly  go  on  so  well 
when  I  am  removed  from  its  immediate  superintend- 
ence ;  yet  I  should  be  sorry  to  see  it  discontinued,  now 
that,  after  having  been  so  many  years  projecting  it,  I 
have  at  length  started  it,  and  in  such  flourishing  plight. 
Perhaps  Thirlwall  will  undertake  some  portion  of  the 
editorial  cares,  as,  I  rejoice  to  say,  he  is  to  succeed  me 
as  lecturer,  and  probably  in  my  rooms,  unless  Whewell 
does  so,  so  that  I  shall  have  a  rich  fulfilment  of  that 
noble  prayer :  '  May  my  successors  be  worthier  and 
better  than  I.'  However,  while  these  rooms  are  still 
mine,  you  must  positively  come  and  see  them.  I 
should  like  to  have  the  leaves  out  when  you  are  here, 
so  that  you  may  see  my  avenue  in  its  beauty ;  and  I 
8 


170  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

should  like  too,  if  possible,  to  manage  that  you  should 
be  here  with  Lady  Munro." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"Alton,  March  19,  1832.  —  I  have  enjoyed  a  little 
visit  to  Oxford  much,  partly  because  I  saw  so  many 
people  that  it  was  pleasant  both  to  see  and  hear,  and 
partly  from  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  dear  Augustus  so 
pleased.  Many  of  the  people  you  will  not  care  to  hear 
about.  They  were  interesting  to  me  chiefly  from  having 
for  many  years  been  associated  with  Augustus,  and  from 
the  interest  they  seemed  to  feel  in  seeing  him  again. 
But  there  were  one  or  two  people  that  I  wished  for  you 
to  see  and  hear  with  me.  One  was  Mr.  Pusey,  the 
Hebrew  Professor.  I  had  a  good  deal  of  conversation 
with  him,  and  was  much  delighted  with  his  extreme 
goodness  and  modesty.  All  he  said  about  the  poor, 
about  a  country  clergyman's  life,  of  which  he  spoke 
with  envy,  was  so  right  feeling,  and  his  manner  was  so 
encouraging,  that  I  felt  as  if  I  could  have  said  any 
thing  to  him ;  there  was  truly  in  him  the  humility  of 
deep  learning.  He  talked  to  Augustus  about  Neander, 
with  whom  he  had  lived  as  much  as  he  could  when  in 
Germany,  and  said  it  was  of  such  as  him  he  was 
thinking  when  he  praised  the  theologians  of  Germany, 
and  not  of  the  Rosenmiillers,  &c,  whom  he  had  been 
accused  of  favoring." 

Julius  Hare  to  Maria  Hark 

"  Trinity,  April  4,  1832.  —  Alas,  what  sad  tidings  the 
papers  contain  !  The  mightiest  spirit  that  this  earth  has 
seen,  since  Shakespeare  left  it,  is  departed.  *  But  he  de- 
parted just  like  himself,  in  the  perfect  healthful  possession 
of  all  his  faculties,  as  a  man  who  has  fulfilled  the  duties 


SUNSHINE.  I/I 

of  the  day,  and  falls  into  calm  sleep  after  it ;  and  even 
his  last  moments  were  moments  of  enjoyment,  he  was 
just  expressing  the  pleasure  he  felt  in  the  genial  warmth 
of  the  spring.  What  a  pleasure  it  would  be  to  possess 
the  arm-chair  in  which  Goethe  closed  his  eyes,  after 
having  gazed  on  all  that  this  world  could  produce,  and 
behold,  *  to  him  it  was  very  good,'  and  I  doubt  not  that 
to  the  very  last  moments  he  felt  the  truth  of  his  favorite 
stanza :  — 

*  Liegt  dir  gestern  klar  und  offen, 

Wirkst  du  heute  froh  und  frei ; 

Kannst  auch  auf  ein  morgen  hoffen, 

Das  nicht  minder  gliicklich  sey.' 

Dear,  glorious  old  man,  would  I  had  seen  him  before  he 
was  taken  away ;  would  I  had  heard  his  voice,  and  be- 
held the  calm  majesty  of  his  face. 

"What  if  —  the  thought  has  just  struck  me  —  we  erect 
a  joint  Hare  monument  to  our  mother  and  aunt  in  Hurst- 
monceaux  church  ?  That  would  be  appropriately  a  Hare 
monument ;  and  I  think  it  seems  likely  to  be  the  place 
with  which  we  are  to  be  most  intimately  connected,  and 
if  there  is  to  be  another  generation  of  us,  we  may  teach 
them  to  venerate  the  two  blessed  sisters,  our  double 
mother." 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"May  11,  1832.  —  I  have  been  looking  in  Heber's 
journal  for  all  he  says  of  Lady  Munro.  How  highly  he 
speaks  of  her,  and  the  estimation  in  which  she  was  held, 
also  her  beauty  and  pleasing  manners.  She  must  be  the 
most  likely  person  possible  for  Julius  to  like.  You  would 
like  to  have  such  a  sister,  —  and  one  who  knew  Reginald, 
too,  in  India.     Now,  dearest,  I  have  written  enough  to 


172  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

show  that  I  think  of  my  darlings  when  they  are  absent 
from  their  cage,  but  shall  much  congratulate  them  when 
they  hop  into  it  again,  and  the  song  is  sung,  and  the 
perch  returned  to." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"Alton,  May  26,  1832.  — I  have  no  need  to  say  one 
word  of  description  to  my  dearest  Luce.  On  many  an 
evening  as  lovely  as  this  have  you  sat  out  with  me  on  the 
little  peaceful  grass-plat,  and  listened  to  the  blackbirds, 
and  enjoyed  the  extreme  quiet  and  shade  of  our  little 
home.  On  many  such  an  evening  have  you  walked  up 
the  toilsome  hill,  and  sucked  in  greedily  the  little  breezes 
of  fresh  air  that  met  one  at  the  top  j  and  then,  when  we 
had  come  down  the  green  path  of  the  corn-field,  we  called 
in  at  Brown's  cottage,  and  found  John  with  prayer-book 
or  Bible  in  his  hand,  and  said  a  few  words  of  comfort  to 
poor  Mary.  Just  so  have  the  dear  Augustus  and  I  spent 
this  delightful  close  of  a  summer's  day  j  and  often  does  it 
make  me  think  of  you,  to  return  so  exactly  to  the  blessed 
days  of  last  year,  only  wanting  you  to  enjoy  them  with 
us.  Nor  did  we  the  less  miss  you  as  we  drove  along  the 
lanes  yesterday  evening  in  the  Dull  carriage,  and  I  could 
almost  have  fancied  you  seated  in  the  vacant  seat,  re- 
peating Keble  as  we  went  along.  The  joy  of  getting 
home,  and  in  such  weather,  was,  as  you  may  guess,  very 
great ;  for  we  have  been  in  so  many  different  places,  and 
seen  so  many  people,  that  it  seems  a  very  long  time  since 
we  went  away;  and,  surely,  no  pleasure  we  have  had 
during  our  absence  has  given  us  half  the  gratification  of 
hearing  poor  sick  Charles  Gale's  expressions  of  joy  at 
hearing  our  carriage-wheels,  and  thinking  it  must  be  Mr. 
Hare,  or  of  being  told  by  so  many  that  they  have  '  missed 


SUNSHINE.  173 

us  desperate?  Yet,  much  as  we  enjoy  our  return,  I  do 
not  regret  that  we  have  been  away.  It  is  wholesome, 
both  for  mind  and  body,  to  have  the  variety  and  change 
of  scene,  air,  and  society,  and  gives  us  food  for  future 
reflection,  as  well  as  making  us  begin  our  work  here 
again  with  greater  zest  from  the  temporary  break.  I 
believe  it  is  quite  necessary,  for  one's  own  individual 
good,  to  mix  occasionally  in  the  concerns  of  Earth.  It 
draws  forth  other,  and  often  more  trying,  points  of 
character  than  are  called  out  in  retirement,  and  is  very 
humbling  to  one's  inner  man  in  showing  how  hard  it  is 
to  be  tolerant  when  others  differ  from  us,  how  difficult  to 
be  charitable  when  one's  own  standard  is  not  followed. 
That  we  are,  not  from  any  merits  of  ours,  but  from  God's 
good  pleasure,  placed  far  away  from  the  temptations  and 
trials  of  the  world,  I  do  most  gratefully  feel  as  a  most 
merciful  privilege  and  favor;  but,  at  the  same  time,  I 
am  fully  aware  that  there  remain  temptations  and  trials 
within  us,  quite  sufficient  to  make  us  watch  and  fear,  and 
that  we  must  be  more  diligent  in  our  inward  search,  since 
the  outside  has  much  less  need  of  cleansing ;  and  I  do 
not  think  I  ever  return  to  our  happy  life  without  feeling 
as  if  the  absence  had  strengthened  and  confirmed  me  in 
my  love  for  heavenly  things,  and  taught  me  to  know  my- 
self better. 

"Julius's  rooms  at  Cambridge  are  most  perfect,  look- 
ing as  they  do  down  that  glorious  avenue,  and  the  Gothic 
windows  are  filled  with  beautiful  geraniums,  &c.  ;  his 
walls  literally  lined  and  papered  with  books,  except  one 
side,  over  the  fire-place,  where  Raphael's  '  Madonna  and 
Child,'  and  two  or  three  other  good  pictures  are.  I  fully 
enter  into  his  feeling  of  the  unworldliness,  the  freedom 
from  care,  the  leisure  afforded  by  such  a  life,  and  with 


174  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

him  the  warmth  of  friendship  keeps  alive  the  affections, 
which,  in  general,  must  lie  dormant  in  a  college ;  yet  I 
shall  be  much  surprised  if,  after  two  or  three  years  of  his 
country  life  at  Hurstmonceaux,  Julius  has  not  received 
more  of  real  happiness  than  in  many  years  at  Trinity." 

Augustus  W.  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  so  bad  an  account  of  the  church 
at  Leamington  j  but  it  is  one  of  the  advantages  of  our 
good  church,  that  we  (meaning  by  '  we '  the  educated) 
are  only  very  partially  dependent  on  the  qualifications 
of  the  minister.  If  he  can  read,  and  most  clergymen 
can  do  that  much,  —  he  must  read  the  liturgy,  —  all  his 
stupidity,  if  he  be  stupid,  — •  all  his  carelessness,  if  he 
be  careless,  cannot  unmake  that-  into  any  thing  un- 
scriptural  or  undevotional.  And  as  to  the  sermon, 
Herbert  has  said  enough  about  that ;  you  know  Who, 
according  to  him,  when  the  preacher  is  incapable,  takes 
up  the  text  and  'preaches  patience.' 

"  The  day  after  to-morrow,  Julius  reads  in  at  Hurst- 
monceaux. God  speed  him  in  his  new  vocation !  I 
cannot  regret  that  he  should  be  likely  to  travel  with 
Landor,  though  I  do  regret  the  abuse  I  hear  of  the 
latter.  Southey,  and  when  I  mention  him  I  mention 
one  .of  the  first  literary  men  in  England  as  to  sterling 
moral  worth,  has  the  following  passage  about  Landor  in 
his  '  Vindiciae  Ecclesiae  Anglicanas  : '  '  Walter  Landor, 
whem  I  have  pride  as  well  as  pleasure  in  calling  my 
friend.'  And  this  is  .the  man  who  has  been  described 
as  being  '  without  honesty  and  principle  ! '  I  wish  that  I 
could  speak  publicly  in  defence  of  a  man  whose  heart  I 
know  to  be  so  large  and  overflowing ;  though  much  of  the 


SUNSHINE.  175 

water,  from  not  having  the  branch  which  Moses  would 
have  shewn  him  thrown  into  it,  has  unhappily  been 
made  bitter  by  circumstances.  But  when  the  stream 
gushes  forth  from  his  natural  affections,  it  is  sweet  and 
plentiful,  and  as  strong  almost  as  a  mill-stream.  For 
his  love  partakes  of  the  violence  of  his  character ;  and 
when  he  gives  it  a  free  course,  there  is"  enough  of  it  to 
fill  a  dozen  such  hearts  as  belong  to  the  ordinary  man 
of  pleasure,  and  man  of  money,  and  man  of  philosophy, 
and  to  set  the  upper  and  nether  mill-stones  in  them 
a-working.  The  loss  of  Missolunghi,  a  friend  of  his  who 
was  at  Florence  at  the  time  told  me,  made  him  ill  for 
a  fortnight.  'He  ought  to  have  been  more  resigned,' 
some  respectable  man  would  say  at  hearing  this.  Per- 
haps, sir,  he  ought :  perhaps  he  felt  too  much  ;  but  what 
shall  we  say  then  of  those  who  felt  too  little,  who  felt 
nothing?  What  shall  we  say  of  the  tens  and  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  Englishmen  who  did  not  eat  a  mouthful 
of  toast,  or  drink  a  spoonful  of  tea  the  less,  for  hearing  of 
the  subversion  of  a  Christian  fortress,  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  its  heroic  garrison  by  hordes  of  barbarous  un- 
believers ?  And  what  I  so  strongly  feel  is,  that  while 
our  estimate  of  ourselves  must  be  the  strict  standard  of 
the  Gospel,  our  estimate  of  others  must  be  comparative. 
He  who  feels  any  wrong,  or  cruel,  or  base  thing  more 
than  others,  and  would  go  further  to  prevent  it,  must 
always  have  my  good  word.'  And  being  such  a  one,  I 
must  continue  to  value  Walter  Landor,  while  praying 
that  the  good  he  has  already  may  be  improved  and  hal- 
lowed, and  that  from  being  a  man  of  men  which  he  now 
is,  he  may  be  changed  and  lifted  into  being  a  man  of 
God.     Doubtless,  there  are  passages  in  his  '  Dialogues ' 


I76  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

which  I  should  wish  away  j  and,  amongst  them,  most 
of  his  attacks  (and  they  are  incessant  where  the  subject 
admits  of  them)  upon  Popery.  I  do  not  like  pulling 
and  tugging  at  even  a  decayed  branch  of  a  fruit-tree, 
lest  the  tree  itself  should  be  shaken,  and  some  of  the 
fruit  should  drop  oif." 


XL 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD. 

"A  religious  life  is  not  a  thing  which  spends  itself  like 
a  bright  bubble  on  the  river's  surface.  It  is  rather  like  the 
river  itself,  which  widens  continually,  and  is  never  so  broad 
or  deep  as  where  it  rolls  into  the  ocean  of  eternity."  — 
Beecher. 

r  I  ^HE  remembrance  of  the  summer  at  Tenby 
■*"  was  always  a  source  of  peculiar  pleasure  to 
my  dearest  mother,  because  she  thought  that  when 
they  were  together  there,  her  father  first  learnt  to 
appreciate  and  love  her  husband,  to  whose  marriage 
with  his  daughter  he  had  given  a  most  reluctant 
consent,  and  with  whom  he  had  never  got  beyond 
a  mere  outside  acquaintance,  during  the  short 
summer  visits  at  Stoke.  She  greatly  rejoiced  in 
the  sensation  which  was  created  in  the  little  town, 
whenever  her  husband  preached  in  Tenby  Church, 
as  an  opportunity  of  showing  her  father  and  Mrs. 
Oswald  Leycester  how  much  he  was  appreciated 
by  others.  And  for  herself,  the  summer  was  filled 
with  days  of  entire  enjoyment,  spent  in  rambling 
with  him  amongst  the  rocky  coves,  sketching  in 
their  caverns,  or  in  longer  excursions  to  Pembroke, 
and  Carew,  and  to  Manobeer,  where  Augustus  cut 

8*  L 


178  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

his  name,  and  that  of  his  Mia  upon  the  ruin,  and 
declared  that  if  she  were  taken  from  him  he  should 
return  to  live  there  as  a  hermit,  as  the  most  utterly 
,  desolate  place  that  he  knew.  Each  day's  compan- 
ionship increased  the  delight  which  they  derived 
from  each  other,  and  their  entire  unity  already  be- 
gan to  make  their  friends  tremble  as  to  what  the 
effect  of  any  separation  might  be  upon  the  one  who 
was  left.  This  was  peculiarly  the  case  with  Lucy 
Stanley.  Speaking  of  the  life  which  the  Parrys 
were  now  leading  at  Tahlee,  in  Australia,  she  wrote 
at  this  time :  — 

Maria  Hare's  Journal  ("The  Green  Book"). 

"Tenby,  Sept.  23,  1832. — Why  is  it  that  ruins  of  old 
buildings,  independently  of  their  picturesque  effect  to 
the  eye,  interest  and  please  us  so  much  ?  May  it  not  be 
that  they  form  a  link  between  God's  works  and  man's, 
having  by  time  and  the  operations  of  nature  become 
harmonized,  softened,  and  in  some  sort  likened  to  rocks 
and  picturesque  objects  of  natural  beauty,  whilst  retain- 
ing the  associations  of  former  animate  life?  awakening 
within  us  imaginations  of  what  has  been,  and  calling  up 
those  feelings  of  sympathy  for  times  gone  by,  and  people 
who  have  lived  before  us,  which  in  the  ordinary  course 
of  life  are  altogether  put  aside.  The  suspicion  and 
jealousy  with  which  a  pious  mind  perhaps  is  inclined  to 
look  at  the  works  of  mere  man's  creation  is  here  lulled 
to  sleep,  by  the  approach  which  such  remains  of  former 
glory  seem  to  make  to  works  fresh  from  the  almighty 
hand.  There  is  none  of  the  hardness,  the  limitation, 
and  the  consideration  of  worldly  interest,  visible  in  the 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        1 79 

broken  fragments  left,  which  in  a  complete  building  fit 
for  present  use  seems  to  draw  the  mind  only  to  earth 
and  its  cares  and  pursuits.  All  harsh  lines  are  done 
away,  and  the  roof  of  open  sky  seems  to  connect  the 
perishing  materials  of  earth  with  the  hopes  of  heaven. 
God's  finger  seems  to  have  been  at  work  here,  no  less 
in  causing  the  decay  of  human  art,  than  it  appears  else- 
where in  the  formation  and  arrangement  of  what  are 
styled  Nature's  works,  and  wherever  that  finger  is  clearly 
visible,  then  one  is  inclined  to  admire  in  adoration. 
If  we  looked  deeper  into  things,  doubtless  we  should 
oftener  trace  that  finger  j  but  we  are  very  much  influ- 
enced by  external  things,  and  look  not  within  :  else  how 
much  should  we  find  to  glorify  God  in,  from  the  works 
of  man,  proceeding  as  they  do  from  the  most  glorious 
work  of  God,  the   mind  of  man." 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Penrhos,  Oct.  3,  1832. — Welcome  back  to .  Alton, 
my  darling.  In  your  '  goings  out  and  comings  in '  I 
follow  you  in  spirit  very  closely.  If  you  saw  how  I  read 
your  letters  over  and  over  again,  —  in  the  house,  —  in 
the  tower,  —  on  the  rocks,  —  you  would  think  they  were 
well  bestowed.  ...  I  am  now  come  up  into  my 
tower  for  the  morning,  —  a  wild  stormy  day,  with  driving 
rain,  and  break  up  of  the  summer  weather.  I  have  just 
read  the  chapter  for  the  day,  and  I  hope  you  have  done 
the  same  ;  I  like  to  think  the  same  verse  may  perhaps 
be  encouragement  and  comfort  to  each,  though  in  a 
different  way.  The  verse  I  stopped  at  just  now  was, 
'  and  He  saw  them  toiling  in  rowing,  for  the  wind  was 
contrary  to  them.'  It  has  been  my  case  lately  ;  though 
outwardly  our  sea  may  look  smooth,  and  the  tempta- 


l80  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

tions  and  hindrances  be  such  as  the  world  cannot  under- 
stand, we  may  nevertheless  be  '  toiling  very  hard,'  feeling 
the  wind  to  be  so  contrary  we  scarcely  make  any  way 
at  all.  And  then,  if  the  winds  from  without  lull  a  little, 
a  heavy  ground-swell  from  within  comes  on,  and  the 
poor  vessel  almost  forgets  it  has  an  Anchor  ready,  and  a 
haven  worth  all  '  toiling '  to  attain. 

"  There  is  no  verse  in  the  whole  Bible  that  again  and 
again  comes  to  me  with  such  support  as,  —  *  Be  of  good 
cheer ;  it  is  I;  be  not  afraid.  And  He  went  unto  them 
into  the  ship,  and  the  wind  ceased.'  Who  ever  followed 
Christ,  and  could  not  say,  Yes,  many  times  He  has  come 
into  my  ship,  and  the  wind  has  ceased,  whether  it  came 
from  '  fightings  without,'  or  from  '  fears  within  '  ? 

"  Last  Sunday  but  one  I  went  to  my  '  ChapeL  on  the 
Rocks,'  and  when  I  came  to  the  end  of  the  Epistle,  I 
saw  under  it  written,  'Alton,  Sept  4,  183 1,'  the  last  dear 
Sunday  I  spent  there  last  year,  and  I  shut  my  eyes 
to  see  that  little  church,  and  that  blessed  and  beautiful 
countenance,  and  the  Mia  by  my  side,  and  the  naughty 
school-children,  and  the  old  attentive  faces ;  and  then  I 
opened  them  again  on  the  broad  blue  sea  before  me,  and 
thanked  God  who  had  given  them  another  year  of  such 
happiness  as  few  of  his  ungrateful  creatures  will  let  them- 
selves enjoy,  for  He  gives  the  same  materials  to  many." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"Alton  Rectory  once  more,  Oct.  9.  —  The  last  day  of 
the  fine  weather,  Dull  brought  me  safe  home  from  Bath, 
and  a  delightful  drive  it  was,  with  the  thoughts  of  Alton 
and  the  dear  husband  before  me.  There  he  was  in  the 
Devizes  road,  all  ready  to  welcome  his  Mia  after  our 
three  days  of  separation.     You  may  guess  how  joyful  a 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        l8l 

Sunday  ours  was,  with  Augustus  in  the  pulpit,  and  all 
the  listening  old  men  and  women,  in  the  place  of  fine 
bonnets  and  gay  gowns. 

"I  am  sure  there  is  a  good  in  one's  absence  from 
home  and  the  break  in  one's  regular  duties,  one  returns 
to  them  with  so  much  greater  zest,  the  people  are  dis- 
posed to  be  more  pleased  when  they  have  missed  us 
much,  and  one  begins  as  it  were  afresh  with  renewed 
hope  and  energy,  feeling  all  the  more  how  blessed  a 
privilege  it  is  to  be  allowed  to  work  together  as  laborers, 
however  humble,  in  the  vineyard." 

Maria  Hare's  Journal  ("The  Green-Book"). 

"  Alton,  Nov.  3.  —  How  immediately  self  enters  into 
every  thing  we  think  or  do  ?  If  we  are  in  the  course  of 
duty  led  to  any  exertion,  however  small,  we  are  apt  to 
be  puffed  up  by  it,  '  I  have  done  this,'  *  I  ought  to  be 
thanked.'  A  return  of  good  crop  is  expected  from  the 
seed  sown,  and  often  there  arises  a  secret  wish  that 
others  should  know  what  has  been  done.  Now  this  is 
not  that  love  'which  seeketh  not  her  own,'  and  of  all 
its  characteristics  I  suspect  this  is  the  hardest  to  make 
ours.  Poor  and  worthless  as  we  may  feel  ourselves  in 
the  abstract,  or  when  comparing  ourselves  with  the 
standard  of  Truth,  I  fear  in  particulars,  in  the  detail  of 
our  lives,  we  are  but  rarely  conscious  how  little  we  are. 
And  why  is  this  ?  Because  '  we  compare  and  measure 
ourselves  by  ourselves,'  that  is,  by  others  weak  as  our- 
selves, and  who  may  do  less.  And  even  this  would  not 
be  so  unfair  a  rule  as  we  make  it,  if  our  imaginations 
would  only  invest  our  fancied  inferiors  with  the  advan- 
tages and  trusts  committed  to  us,  and  suppose  what  they 
would  do  then.    But  we  take  people  as  they  are,  with  all 


1 82  RECORDS    OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  circumstances  of  their  relative  positions  unallowed 
for,  and  compare  our  own  doings  with  theirs,  and  take 
credit  to  ourselves  for  the  contrast,  without  bearing  in 
mind  that  our  talents  may  have  been  five  and  theirs 
one.  And  truly  it  is  an  awful  thought  to  consider  that 
God's  justice  must  weigh  the  means  vouchsafed  to  his 
creatures  in  the  balance  with  their  attainments  when  we 
think  what  those  means  have  been  to  us,  how  singularly 
great  and  numerous,  whilst  the  hindrances  have  been  so 
few ;  and  when,  further,  the  nothingness  and  weakness 
of  our  return  is  estimated  without  being  held  up  by  the 
self-delusion  of  our  own  hearts." 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Alderley,  Nov.  19,  1832.  —  I  have  such  constant 
delight  in  '  Valehead  Rectory,'  to  which  I  have  recourse 
again  and  again,  when  my  thoughts  grow  downwards, 
from  mixture  with  this  most  earthly  earth.  The  poetry 
is  beautiful,  after  long  acquaintance,  and  I  never  close 
the  book  without  having  gained  some  of  the  feeling  for 
which  I  opened  it.  'Valehead  Rectory'  always  seems 
to  me  in  prose  what  the  '  Christian  Year '  is  in  poetry, 
and  what  Augustus  is  in  human  nature." 

"Nov.  30,  1832. —  .  .  .  Since  I  came  back  I  have 
been  reading  much  in  the  works  of  the  holy  and  beloved 
Leighton.  I  never  can  read  many  page's  of  him,  and 
think  of  any  thing  else,  which  I  can  do,  most  unhappily, 
with  most  others.  He  is  so  truly  the  essence  of  the 
Bible,  and  raises  one  gently  above  the  earth,  and  the 
view  of  one's  own  sinful  self,  to  the  full  contemplation 
of  the  high  standard  we  are  aiming  at  Dear  old  Jeremy 
always  keeps  me  too  much  in  contemplation  of  the 
extreme  ugliness  of  sin,  and  I  think  I  can  get  away  from 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        1 83 

it  most  easily  by  fixing  my  eye  on  the  *  Beauty  of  Holi- 
ness ; '  but  both  together,  Leighton  and  Taylor,  would 
be  a  religious  library  sufficient  for  any  Christian  who 
did  not  live  in  the  fifteenth  century." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"Alton,  Dec.  22,  1832.  —  I  hope  this  may  reach  you 
on  Christmas  Day,  that  it  may  bring  us  more  forcibly 
to  your  mind's  eye,  join  us  more  earnestly  in  your 
prayers,  and  communicate  to  you  something  of  that 
•share  of  joy  we  shall  be  feeling  with  you,  in  the  coming 
again  of  that  blessed  season.  It  is  a  comfort  to  think 
that  others  are  feeling  it  with  us,  and  that  Christmas  is 
to  many  a  quiet  hidden  soul  bringing  its  glad  tidings, 
not  the  less  surely  because  it  is,  alas,  in  these  times, 
only  in  secret  that  the  real  joy  can  often  be  felt.  It  is, 
indeed,  sad  to  think  that  in  a  Christian  country,  and 
uniting  as  most  do  in  Christian  worship,  this  should  be 
so,  —  that  the  Name  uppermost  in  our  hearts  should  not 
be  allowed  to  pass  our  lips,  and  that  the  real  cause  for 
rejoicing  is  the  one  that  cannot  be  even  hinted  at.  But 
we  must  not  turn  to  the  sadder  side.  Let  us  rather 
think  of  the  many  thousands  who  have,  by  the  first 
coming  of  this  day,  been  turned  from  darkness  into 
light,  and  of  the  peace  and  comfort  to  our  own  hearts 
springing  up  with  the  assurance  of  '  a  Saviour  which  is 
Christ  the  Lord,'  —  that  He  who  thought  it  not  beneath 
Him  to  lie  in  a  manger,  and  be  subject  to  infant  weakness 
and  human  suffering,  is  now  mediating  for  those  whom 
He  has  redeemed, — watching  over  their  struggles,  and 
sending  his  Spirit  to  guide  and  to  help  them,  more 
powerfully  than  when  on  earth  He  comforted  his  apostles 
by  words  and  deeds.     It  is,  I  do  believe,  our  little  faith 


I84  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

which  chains  down  our  thoughts  to  the  mournful  rec- 
ollection of  our  own  weakness,  instead  of  leading  them 
upwards  to  forget  ourselves  in  the  adoration  of  our 
Lord  and  Master,  and  which  so  prevents  our  feeling 
our  hearts  burning  within  us,  and  makes  us  serious  in- 
stead of  glad.  When,  however,  we  see  how  little  there 
is  of  Peace  on  Earth,  no  wonder  if  we  are  often  sad  \  and 
these  days  of  political  excitement  are  more  especially 
unfavorable  to  it.  We  do  feel  most  thankful  to  be  out 
of  reach  of  it  altogether. 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to   Maria   Hare  (during  an  illness  of 
Augustus). 

"Dec.  31,  1832.  —  I  cannot  help  the  abiding  con- 
viction that  here  all  will  end  well.  Klopstock  lost  his 
Meta,  and  George  Herbert's  wife  was  left  early  a  widow  ! 
Still  it  is  perhaps  a  great  comfort  when  we  feel  that 
sanguine  hope,  though  we  cannot  always  give  a  reason 
for  it.  When  the  rod  falls,  we  bow  beneath  it,  and 
meekly  and  fervently  love  on.  We  shall  not,  shall  we, 
be  worse  off,  for  having  hoped  that  in  our  c'ase  the  cup 
may  for  a  while  pass  by,  though  we  know  there  is  no 
reason  why  it  should.  Your  Christian  letters  come  to 
me  like  angel-songs,  from  a  brighter  and  purer  world. 
Yesterday  I  wrote  you  a  long  letter,  and  burnt  it  to-day, 
because  I  thought  it  discontented.  Oh !  if  we  could 
but  remember  that  our  Master's  eye  is  never  off  us,  — 
that  He  saw  his  disciples  '  toiling  in  their  ships,'  though 
they  knew  it  not. 

"  The  church  bells  have  .just  struck  up,  and  they  are 
ringing  in  the  New  Year  j  the  hand  of  my  clock  is  on 
the  twelve.  At  this  moment  our  prayers  may  be  ascend- 
ing together   to  the  throne  of  Grace.     Almighty  and 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        1 85 

Blessed  God,  Father,  Saviour,  and  Comforter  in  one, 
bless  us  and  keep  us  through  the  year  just  opened  on 
us, — guide  us  with  Thy  counsel,  strengthen  us  with 
Thy  might,  and  afterwards  receive  us  into  glory.  To 
Thee,  O  God  our  Saviour,  be  all  glory,  majesty,  domin- 
ion, and  power,  both  now  and  ever.     Amen." 

In  the  autumn  of  1832,  after  he  had  taken  pos- 
session of  the  living  of  Hurstmonceaux,  and  had 
given  directions  for  the  addition  of  several  rooms 
to  the  house,  Julius  Hare  set  out  for  Italy  with  his 
friends  Worsley  and  Landor,  visiting  Holland  and 
many  parts  of  Germany  on  the  way.  Almost  all 
the  interesting  letters  in  which  he  described  his 
travels  and  his  first  impressions  of  Rome  to  his 
brother  Augustus  were  unhappily  destroyed  by 
Mrs.  Julius  Hare.  Scarcely  any  memorial  of  this 
journey  remains  but  his  letters  to  his  brother 
Francis  :  — 

Julius  Hare  to  Francis  Hare. 

"Augsburg,  Oct.  27,  1832.  —  It  is  a  month  to-morrow 
since  we  (that  is,  Landor,  Worsley,  and  I)  left  London : 
we  saw  the  great  Netherlandish  towns,  and  the  treas- 
ures they  contain,  pretty  well ;  spent  a  couple  of  days 
at  Bonn,  one  at  Frankfort,  and  another  most  delightful- 
one  at  Nuremberg,  which  we  all  agreed  in  admiring 
above  all  the  towns  we  have  ever  seen.  Landor  says 
Rome  is  nothing  to  be  compared  to  it  in  point  of  beauty 
and  interest." 

"  Vicenza,  Nov.  15.  — .  .  .  We  have  been  seeing 
much,  especially  in  the  way  of  pictures,  though  of 
course  rather  too  rapidly ;  and  both  Landor  and  Wors- 


1 86  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

ley  have  been  most  delightful  and  instructive  compan- 
ions. At  Munich  the  Gallery  was  closed ;  but  we  saw 
the  Glyptotheca,  Schliessheim,  and  Schelling,  who,  now 
that  Goethe  and  Niebuhr  are  gone,  is  without  a  rival 
the  first  man  of  the  age,  — I  know  not  who  is  the  sec- 
ond. We  had  three  glorious  days  at  Venice,  that  is,  in 
the  picture  way,  for  it  rained  the  whole  time.  Our  last 
morning  we  employed  in  buying.  Landor  got  a  Schia-. 
vone  for  himself,  and,  with  inimitable  skill  in  bargaining, 
a  beautiful  marriage  of  St.  Catherine  by  Giovanni  da 
Udine,*  and  an  exquisitely  lovely  head  of  St.  Cecilia 
(a  Perugino,  or  early  Raphael,  —  Landor  inclines  to 
think  the  latter)  for  me,  for  a  hundred  louis,  —  so  that 
Hurstmonceaux  will  again  bear  witness  to  the  family  love 
for  the  arts.  This  morning  we  spent  at  Padua.  What 
magnificent  relics  there  are  there  !  The  hall  must  have 
been  the  finest  room  in  the  world,  as  large,  to  judge  by 
the  eye,  as  Westminster  Hall,  and  covered  with  paint- 
ings by  Giotto,  Mantegna,  and  other  mighty  painters. 
What  a  place,  too,  is  the  chapel  of  the  Eremitani.  Giotto 
seems  clearly  to  be,  with  perhaps  the  single  exception 
of  Raphael,  the  greatest  genius  that  painting  has  yet 
seen,  at  least  in  the  modern  world.' ' 

"  Fiesole,  Dec.  n.  —  Here  at  Florence,  from  being  at 
Landor's  villa,  I  have  not  been  able  to  do  as  much  as  I 
might  otherwise  have  done.  But  I  have  learnt  to  wor- 
ship Raphael  more  devoutly  and  reverentially  than  ever, 
and  I  have  seen  the  Niobe.  Many  other  admirable 
things,  too,  have  come  across  me.  Pietro  Perugino  is 
divine,  but  the  picture  at  Bologna  is  still  lovelier  and 

*  "  There  was  a  replica  of  this  picture  exhibited  at  Burlington 
House,  in  the  Loan  Exhibition  of  187 1,  where  it  was  attributed 
to  Marco  Basaiti,  147 0-1520. 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        1 87 

heavenlier  than  any  here.  In  Fra  Bartolomeo  I  am 
disappointed,  his  drapery  is  mostly  the  best  part  of  his 
pictures :  in  the  famous  St.  Mark  it  is  the  only  good 
one :  the  expression  is  bad.  The  Job  seems  to  me 
poor,  the  Isaiah  miserable.  In  single  figures,  he,  as  far 
as  design  goes,  is  a  thousand  degrees  below  Correggio, 
the  four  Evangelists  on  the  cartoons  for  his  frescos  are 
the  sublimest  single  figures  I  ever  saw.  The  Resurrec- 
tion, in  the  Pitti,  is  very  magnificent ;  and  perhaps,  how- 
ever, I  should  have  thought  better  of  him,  but  that 
Landor  had  led  me  to  expect  something  almost  equal 
to  Raphael.  The  Fra  Angelicos  in  S.  Marco  are  ex- 
quisitely beautiful.  John  of  Bologna,  too,  is  a  very 
great  man,  though  I  think,  in  spite  of  Landor,  very  infe- 
rior in  genius  to  Michel  Angelo ;  and  to  place  him 
above  Phidias  and  Praxiteles  seems  to  me  to  be  utter 
nonsense.  The  Mercury  is  a  singularly  agile  figure, 
but  not  a  god,  unless  it  be  a  dieu  de  la  danse.  The  Rape 
of  the  Sabines  and  the  Nessus  seem  to  me  to  be  much 
too  violent  for  sculpture,  with  too  many  projecting 
points.  His  Oceanus,  however,  and  still  more  his  Nep- 
tune at  Bologna,  are  very  grand.  What  a  grievous 
thing  it  is  that  Michel  had  not  a  little  of  Raphael's 
meekness,  and  was  not  content  with  doing  a  thing  most 
beautifully,  unless  he  could  astound  and  amaze.  His 
Madonna  and  Child  at  Bruges  is  worthy  of  Raphael ; 
his  angel  at  Bologna  is  as  lovely  and  angelic  as  any  of 
Perugino's  \  and  yet  he  could  paint  that  monstrous  and 
anatomical  abortion  in  the  Tribune.  He  is  almost  al- 
ways grand,  however,  and  full  of  genius  :  every  time  I 
walk  before  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  I  am  struck  with  .awe 
by  his  David,  and  nothing  can  be  more  solemn  and  ma- 
jestic than  his  Giulio  de'  Medici,  and  the  four  figures  at 
the  feet  of  the  monuments. 


1 88  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

"  Rome,  Dec.  20. — We  just  arrived  here  in  time  to 
take  one  walk  round  St.  Peter's  before  the  venti-quattro. 
The  general  effect  of  the  exterior  seems  to  me  much  less 
fine  than  St.  Paul's  :  the  dome  does  not  harmonize  well 
with  the  flat  roof  beneath  it.  But  the  dome  itself,  the 
colonnade,  and  the  interior,  are  unrivalled.  Our  sit- 
ting-room, in  the  Via  di  Monte  Brianzo,  looks  down 
upon  the  Tiber,  and  over  it  to  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo, 
the  Mont  Mario,  and  St.  Peter's." 

To  Augustus  W.  Hare. 

"Rome,  Day  of  the  Purification.  —  .  .  .  I  rejoiced 
when  I  left  England  in  the  thought  that,  till  I  returned 
thither,  I  should  not  see  another  proof-sheet ;  and  lo, 
they  are  threatening  to  pour  in  upon  me  of  all  places 
in  the  world  here  in  Rome.  Here  in  Rome,  where  one 
has  so  many  better  ways  of  spending  one's  time  ;  where 
authorship  seems  to  be  the  last  thought  that  ever  enters 
anybody's  head,  I  seem  to  be  fated  to  publish,  and,  of  all 
things  in  the  world,  a  sermon.  I  preached  the  Sunday 
before  last,  and,  to  suit  my  sermon  to  the  time  and 
place,  took,  '  What  went  ye  out  into  the  wilderness  to 
see?'  for  my  text,  and  the  evils  and  dangers  of  living 
abroad,  for  my  subject ;  and,  as  I  had  resolved,  followed 
your  example  in  scolding  the  misbehavior  in  the 
churches.  But  you  know  people  rather  like  to  be 
scolded,  at  least,  when  the  scolding  comes  from  the 
pulpit,  and  is  not  immediately  personal.  Vehement 
preachers  have  always  been  popular  ;  and  so  in  the  fol- 
lowing week  a  number  of  the  congregation  expressed, 
through  Mr.  Burgess,  a  strong  wish  that  I  might  be  in- 
duced to  print  it ;  and  as  the  applicants  were  personally 
unknown  to  me,  I  felt  myself  forced  to  set  about  trying 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        1 89 

to  get  a  papal  imprimatur.  The  chief  said  he  had  al- 
ready heard  a  great  deal  about  my  sermon,  and  if  I 
would  take  it  to  him  to  read  over,  that  he  might  see 
there  were  no  objectionable  expressions,  he  would  be 
very  glad  to  give  me  his  license.  Here  the  matter  stands 
now  ;  but  people  say  if  the  license  is  granted,  it  will  be 
a  great  point,  for  that  it  will  be  the  first  instance  of  a 
Protestant  sermon  printed  at  Rome.  To  make  amends 
for  the  trouble  it  will  give  me,  I  have  had  one  or  two 
very  touching  expressions  and  thanks.  Far  the  most 
delightful  thing  was  a  note  from  Bunsen  (the  Prussian 
minister)  who  was  there,  and  borrowed  the  sermon  after 
church,  and  read  it  into  German  to  his  family  in  the 
evening.  Next  morning,  before  I  was  dressed,  I  re- 
ceived the  following  note,  which  I  send  you  in  the 
original :  — 

" '  Theurer  Freund,  erlauben  sie  mir  dass  ich  sie  mit 
diesem  Namen  begriisse.  Ihre  gestrige  Predigt  hat 
mir  bewiesen  dass  der  Grund  auf  welchem  unsere  Ver- 
bindung  ruht,  zu  tief  liegt  um  von  der  Sturm  der  Zeit 
beriihrt  zu  werden  j  ein  Grund  der  Gemeinschaft  der 
ihnen  meine  anhanglichkeit  furs  leben  verburgt,  und 
mich  mehr  als  je  wunschen  lasst  ihre  Freundschaft  furs 
leben  zu  gewinnen.' 

"You  have  heard  something  of  Bunsen,  and  know 
that  I  expected  to  like  him  very  much.  I  like  him  far 
more  than  I  expected,  and  hardly  know  any  man  who 
unites  so  many  high  merits,  without,  so  far  as  I  can  see, 
a  single  defect.  He  is  one  of  the  friendliest,  most  ami- 
able, liveliest,  most  sensible,  best  informed,  most  enter- 
taining of  human  beings,  overflowing  with  kindness, 
good  humor,  with  high  spirits,  most  actively  and  un- 
weariedly  benevolent ;  and  I  have  never  discovered  the 


I9O  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

least  spark  of  ill-nature  in  him,  or  of  selfishness,  or  of 
vanity,  though  we  are  constantly  together.  Over  and 
above  every  thing  else,  he  is  a  man  of  the  strongest,  pur- 
est, most  fervent  piety.  Circumstances  have  in  some 
degree  given  another  turn  to  his  studies,  else  his  own 
bias  would  have  been  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  re- 
ligion. Even  as  it  is,  he  has  done  a  great  deal.  He 
has  made  a  collection  of  German  hymns,  a  large  octavo 
volume  that  he  has  selected  from  above  eighty  thousand. 
He  is  engaged,  too,  in  publishing  a  complete  collection  of 
Christian  liturgies,  and  has  made  great  researches  in  all 
ages  of  the  Christian  Church  for  this  purpose.  Nay,  he 
has  himself  printed  a  liturgy  for  his  own  chapel  here, 
drawn  in  great  measure  from  ours,  or  rather  from  the  same 
sources  j  but  it  differs  from  ours  in  some  very  important 
points,  and  I  think  mostly  for  the  better.  The  German 
Protestant  chapel  itself,  too,  is  entirely  his  creation,  and 
has  been  of  very  great  advantage,  among  other  things, 
by  having  put  a  stop  to  the  conversions  which  had  pre- 
viously been  so  frequent  among  the  German  artists.  .  .  . 
"  As  for  Rome,  dear  Rome,  it  seems  as  if  I  had  seen 
nothing  of  it  j  and  yet  I  have  seen  more  than  in  all  the 
other  towns  I  ever  was  in  put  together,  —  more  objects 
of  love  and  of  thought.  It  will  be  a  great  grief  to  me  to 
leave  her  with  the  thought  that  I  am  never  to  see  her 
again  j  yet  it  will  be  a  great  happiness  to  have  seen  her, 
and  having  been  seen,  she  will  become  a  part  of  sight." 

Maria  Hare's  Journal  ("  The  Green  Book  "). 

"January  14,  1833.  —  A  new  year!  To  how  many 
is  it  nothing  but  an  old  one ;  new  in  nothing  but  its 
name,  old  in  the  strengthening  of  all  former  propen- 
sities ;  old  in  indolent  habits ;   old  in  time  wasted  or 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.       I9I 

misused.  The  point  is  to  ascertain  how  much  it  is  wise 
to  retain  of  the  old,  how  much  ought  to  become  new. 
Perhaps  in  these  days  there  is  more  danger  of  casting 
off  too  much  of  the  old  than  there  is  of  neglecting  to 
adopt  the  new.  Change  is  the  cry  of  the  day,  and 
though  the  new  may  only  be  what  is  old,  new-cast  and 
under  a  new  form,  still  there  is  the  restless  desire  for 
change,  and  the  extravagant  hope  that  all  good  is  to  be 
effected  and  all  evil  done  away  by  such  a  remodelling 
of  things.  But  I  am  led  away  from  my  first  idea,  which 
was  rather  a  practical  and  moral  one,  —  to  consider  with- 
in ourselves  how  the  fresh  stage  of  life  ought  to  be  a 
new  one  in  its  most  useful  sense.  Now  it  seems  to 
me  a  clear  principle  of  Christ  that  we  should  never 
stand  still,  —  never  feel  satisfied  we  are  doing  enough ; 
else  why  have  we  a  model  before  us  of  perfection  we 
never  can  reach,  if  it  be  not  to  stimulate  us  onwards, 
leading  us  on  step  by  step,  and  ever  keeping  before  us 
a  point  yet  further  to  be  attained,  both  to  keep  us 
humble  and  excite  us  to  action  ?  Each  year,  then, 
should  be  a  stage  of  advance  in  our  own  souls,  by 
a  growth  in  Christian  grace  and  a  weakening  of  natural 
corruption,  and  also  an  advance  in  the  work  we  are 
called  to,  whatever  that  work  may  be. 

"When  I  look  back  on  the  mercies  of  the  past  year, 
how  ashamed  and  humbled  do  I  feel  to  think  how 
my  heavenly  Father  has  watched  over,  preserved,  and 
blessed  me,  and  how  little  I  have  given  Him  in  re- 
turn, —  how  little  of  love,  how  little  of  prayer,  how 
little  of  service  !  Yet  let  me  hope  it  has  not  been  alto- 
gether in  vain ;  that  some  few  seeds  of  good  have  been 
sown,  though  there  ought  to  have  been  an  abundance  of 
them ;  that  some  few  feelings  have  been  strengthened 


192  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

and  realized,  though  many  have  been  sluggish.  Alas ! 
how  much  readier  we  are  to  dwell  upon  the  few  miser- 
able little  grains  of  wheat  in  the  year  than  to  seek 
out  and  mourn  over  the  harvest  of  tares !  How  .much 
more  willingly  my  mind  turns  to  the  hope  that  I  have 
acquired  more  power  of  realizing  to  myself  the  constant 
presence  of  God  my  Saviour,  than  it  does  to  the  more 
certain  fact  of  how  often  I  have  failed  in  trusting  and 
believing,  —  how  little  I  have  shown  my  sense  of  his 
presence.  .  .  . 

.  .  .  "One  thing  I  am  very  sensible  of  in  the  past 
year,  —  a  great  increased  perception  of  the  variance 
between  the  principles  of  the  world  and  those  of  the 
Bible.  The  having  so  constantly  before  my  eyes  in  our 
retired  life  and  parochial  duties  the  higher  views  of 
Christianity,  and  the  reading  so  much  more  than  I  used 
to  do  of  theological  books,  and  so  much  less  of  worldly 
publications,  has  quickened  my  perception  of  the  differ- 
ence, so  as  to  strike  me  forcibly,  either  when  mixing 
with  others  or  reading  the  literature  of  the  day.  But 
perhaps  I  leave  out  the  chief  cause,  —  the  living  with 
one  whose  whole  life  is  based  on  Scripture  principles, 
and  whose  whole  thoughts  and  practice  are  alike  resting 
on  that  sure  basis. 

"How  little  am  I  duly  thankful  for  such  privileges 
and  blessings  as  God  has  bestowed  on  me,  in  my  situa- 
tion and  in  my  most  precious  husband,  with  whom  I 
have  been  allowed  three  years  of  such  uninterrupted 
happiness.  Oh,  may  I  be  more  grateful,  more  loving, 
more  faithful  to  Him  who  gives  me  all  his  best  gifts  in 
such  abundance,  and  may  He  bless  them  to  us  both,  so 
that  we  may  be  yearly  more  devoted  to  his  service,  and 
more  earnest  in  our  calling,  not  forgetting,  whilst  we 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        I93 

strive  to  better  others,  that  we,  too,  have  a  great  work 
begun  which  has  to  be  perfected,  and  for  which  we  must 
not  cease  to  watch  and  pray !  " 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"  Jan.  6,  1833.  —  The  beginning  of  another  year  of 
life  does  indeed  seem  overflowing  with  thoughts  and 
feelings,  mercies  past  for  which  we  cannot  feel  grateful 
enough,  and  opportunities  to  come  for  which  no  prayer 
nor  faith  seem  sufficiently  strong.  Last  year  we  began 
the  year  with  cholera  impending  over  our  heads,  revolu- 
tion threatening  us.  Now  we  are  mercifully  freed  from 
one  evil,  and  the  other  is  at  least  for  a  time  removed  to 
a  distance.  Still  so  weak  is  my  faith,  that  I  am  afraid 
I  look  back  with  greater  pleasure  than  forward.  And 
yet  the  same  God  and  Saviour  who  has  been  with  us 
through  the  one  will  no  less  surely  be  near  us  through 
the  other,  and  overrule  all  things  for  good.  You  and  I 
must,  of  course,  feel  differently  on  some  things ;  and 
I  can  only  for  myself  personally  desire  to  have  a  contin- 
uance of  present  happiness,  with  greater  earnestness 
and  zeal  in  making  use  of  the  great  privileges  I  now 
enjoy.  Still,  blest  as  I  am,  could  Augustus  and  I  both 
leave  the  world  together,  I  should  look  forward  to  the 
moment  of  entrance  into  eternity,  where  sin  does  not 
dwell,  as  a  moment  to  be  humbly  wished  for.  As  it  is, 
since  one  may  be  taken  and  the  other  left,  we  can  but 
resign  ourselves  wholly  into  our  Master's  hands,  and 
entreat  Him  to  make  our  will  one  with  his." 

"  yan.  21.  —  Let  me  tell  you  of  Augustus's  first  at- 
tempt at  what  in  Wickliffe's  time  was  called  Postilling. 
It  was  luckily  the  41st  of  Isaiah  last  Sunday  morning, 
such  a  fine  chapter,  and  his  exposition  was  so  plain, 

9  M 


194  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

being  extempore  and  from  the  desk,  that  I  think  many 
must  have  learnt  much.  He  prefaced  it  by  telling 
them  how  Scripture  used  to  be  thus  explained  till  man 
perverted  the  practice,  and  that  was  no  reason  its  ad- 
vantage should  be  now  lost,  after  so  many  years.  He 
told  them  a  good  deal  about  the  nature  of  the  Prophecy, 
and  the  different  senses  it  bore,  and  the  difficulties 
attaching  to  it,  and  how  its  perfect  completion  was 
probably  not  yet  come.  I  suppose  it  was  quite  as 
long  as  a  sermon,  and  the  people  were  most  attentive. 
We  had  the  real  sermon,  as  usual,  in  the  evening." 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"Feb.  20.  —  There  is  no  command  oftener  sounding  in 
my  ears  than  this,  '  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men, 
that  they  may  see  your  good  works.'  Every  day  I  see  how 
it  is  the  more  necessary  for  the  lamp  to  burn  steadily 
and  brightly,  for  the  conduct  to  be  consistent,  uncom- 
promising, and  gentle ;  for  often  perhaps,  when  a  word 
would  not  be  borne,  an  act  of  forbearance  or  self-denial 
might  be  remembered  in  a  cooler  moment.  Yet  so 
often,  when  my  tree  is  shaken,  does  there  often  tumble 
down  a  crab ;  any  one  might  be  forgiven  for  doubting 
the  care  and  attention  I  pay  to  the  root.  I  fear,  by 
nature,  it  was  such  an  inveterate  crab,  it  requires  a 
fresh  graft  every  year  to  make  it  bear  any  fruit." 

Maria  Hare's  Journal  ("The  Green  Book"). 

"  March  4.  —  I  seem  to  myself  to  have  got  a  clearer 
notion  lately  of  the  different  steps  which  are  attained  in 
religious  progress,  and  a  difficulty  I  have  felt  in  recon- 
ciling what  I  see  with  what  I  read  in  Scripture  seems  to 
be  diminished.     There  are  two  distinct  classes,  say  the 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        1 95 

Evangelicals,  those  who  serve  God  and  those  who  serve 
Him  not,  and  I  see  and  acknowledge  the  truth.  Still 
one  cannot  look  around  without  feeling  there  are  many 
who  are  far  removed  from  being  indifferent  or  careless 
as  to  their  duty,  —  who  do  sincerely  desire  to  do  it,  and 
to  a  certain  degree  do  serve  God  more  than  the  world, 
and  yet  that  these  same  people  are  equally  far  perhaps 
from  that  simplicity  and  reality  of  Christian  faith  which 
makes  Christ's  service  and  his  yoke  a  delight  and  a  joy 
to  them.  Now  may  it  not  be  that  such  persons  are  in 
fact  Jews  in  heart  and  practice  ?  Of  God  they  have  a 
reverence  and  fear,  —  they  serve  Him  outwardly,  they 
acknowledge  Him  inwardly,  —  but  of  love  as  a  principle 
of  action  they  are  as  yet  ignorant,  consequently  their 
religious  service  consists  in  outward  acts.  Of  Christ  as 
a  Saviour  and  Mediator  they  rarely  think,  and  consider 
the  reference  to  Him  as  the  great  cause  of  our  hope  and 
dependence,  as  rather  of  a. fanatical  spirit.  In  such 
persons  year  passes  after  year  and  no  change  is  visible'; 
the  same  round  of  duties  is  performed,  but  the  spirit 
which  should  animate  them  continues  dormant,  nor  do 
their  worldly  thoughts  or  opinions  betray  any  symptoms 
of  leavening.  Of  such  persons  it  is  untrue  to  say  that 
they  despise  or  are  regardless  of  God ;  but  their  service 
is  one  of  fear,  and  their  creed  scarcely  less  enlightened 
than  that  of  a  Jew.  People  do  not  consider  what  it  is 
that  distinguishes  Christianity  from  Judaism,  and  fancy 
themselves  Christians  before  they  have  left  the  old 
slavery  of  the  letter  and  form." 

It  was  in  March,  1833,  that  a  bad  cold,  affecting 
the  throat,  and  a  violent  cough,  formed  the  begin- 
ning of  the  illness  from  which  Augustus  Hare  never 


I96  RECORDS    OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

recovered.  A  slight  paralysis  of  the  nerves  on  one 
side  of  the  face  caused  severe  bleeding  to  be  re- 
sorted to,  which  materially  weakened  the  system. 
For  some  weeks  he  was  confined  to  the  house,  and 
his  mind  was  filled  with  anxiety.  Mrs.  Stanley 
wrote  from  Alderley  urgently  desiring  to  come  and 
assist  in  nursing  him  ;  but  to  this  he  refused  to 
consent,  preferring  that  she  should  postpone  her 
visit  to  May,  when  he  hoped  to  be  well  and  able  to 
enjoy  it.  In  April,  all  anxiety  seemed  over,  and  he 
was  able  to  resume  his  parochial  duties,  and  de- 
livered an  address  upon  his  first  reappearance  in 
his  little  church,  which  was  afterwards  printed  in 
consequence  of  the  impression  it  made  upon  his 
people.  During  his  illness  they  had  shown  the 
greatest  anxiety  about  him.  "  It  seems  as  if  one 
of  my  own  children  was  bad,  not  to  see  Mr.  Hare 
about,"  said  one;  and  when  he  was  recovering, — 
"  I  be  just  about  glad  Mr.  Hare's  better,  for  he  is  a 
good  friend  to  all  of  we." 

Augustus  W.   Hare  to  the  People  of  Alton  (Address  in 
Alton-Barnes  Church). 

"  Indeed,  brethren,  I  know  not  how  it  may  have  been 
with  you,  nor  whether  you  have  missed  me,  during  the 
time  I  have  been  kept  away  from  you ;  but  I  can  truly 
say,  that  I  have  missed  you.  I  have  missed  the  well- 
filled  benches  near  me  ;  I  have  missed  the  familiar  faces 
in  the  gallery ;  I  have  missed  the  delight  of  praying  with 
you,  and  the  pleasure  of  instructing  you.  At  the  season 
of  the  great  festivals,  and  especially  during  Passion 
Week  and  Easter,  the  spirit  of  the  coldest  Christian  is 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.       1 97 

more  alive  than  at  other  times.  It  is  impossible  to  hear 
the  history  of  Christ's  sufferings,  —  how  He  was  scourged 
and  nailed  to  a  cross,  and  left  to  hang  there  till  He  died, 
amid  the  mocks  and  laughter  of  the  bystanders,  —  it  is 
impossible  for  men  to  hear  all  this  with  their  ears,  and  to 
have  it  almost  brought  before  their  eyes,  and  to  know  that 
Jesus  went  through  it  all  for  their  sakes,  that  they  might 
be  forgiven,  and  might  live,  —  it  is  hardly  possible  for 
anybody  to  hear  all  this  without  having  his  heart  burn 
within  him.  These  then  are  the  seasons  when  the  min- 
ister who  loves  his  people  has  most  pleasure  in  speaking 
to  them  and  teaching  them.  He  loves  to  strike  while 
the  iron  is  hot,  while  the  heart  is  moved  and  softened,  in 
the  hope  that  at  such  a  time,  by  God's  grace,  his  words 
may  sink  deeper.  And  yet  it  was  just  at  this  particular 
season,  when  I  should  so  much  have  enjoyed  being  with 
you,  that  it  pleased  God  to  affect  me  with  sickness,  to 
separate  me  for  a  time  from  you,  my  people  and  friends. 
Do  not  suppose  I  murmur  at  this  dispensation  :  far  from 
it.  God  knows  best  what  means  and  what  instruments 
to  employ  for  the  conversion  and  instruction  of  his  peo- 
ple. If  I  had  been  in  health,  you  would  have  been  taught 
by  me  alone.  As  it  is,  you  have  had  the  advantage 
of  hearing  different  teachers ;  and  it  may  be  the  words 
of  some  of  them  may  have  sunk  deeper  in  some  minds, 
and  have  done  them  more  good,  than  any  thing  I  should 
have  said,  if  I  had  preached  to  you.  If  it  be  so,  God  be 
praised  for  it !  Yea,  God  be  praised  for  my  sickness, 
even  if  it  had  been  more  severe,  if  it  be  the  means  of 
calling  any  one  among  you  to  a  knowledge  of  his  saving 
will !  But  still  it  did  grieve  me  much,  that  I  could  not 
be  praying  with  you  and  teaching  you.  Never  did  the 
little  church  appear  more  beautiful  in  my  eyes  than  on 


I98  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

those  Sundays,  while  I  looked  at  it  with  a  melancholy 
pleasure,  and  watched  you  as  you  went  into  God's  house, 
or  returned  from  it.  Truly,  at  such  times,  I  could  well 
have  said  with  David,  '  How  amiable,  how  lovely  are  thy 
tabernacles,  thou  Lord  of  Hosts  !  My  soul  hath  a  desire 
and  longing  to  enter  into  the  courts  of  the  Lord.' " 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"March  27.  — '  Shall  we  receive  good  and  not  evil  at 
the  hands  of  our  Father  ? '  Well  may  we  feel  that,  bright 
as  our  sunshine  is  and  has  been  from  year's  end  to  year's 
end,  we  may  endure,  and  bless  God  that  He  has  thought 
fit  for  a  brief  space  to  send  this  cloud  to  overshadow  our 
joy,  and  make  us  more  fully  sensible  how  dependent  it  is 
upon  his  good  pleasure.  Now,  when  it  has  pleased  Him 
to  bless  the  means  used  and  give  us  again  a  gleam  of 
sunshine,  I  begin  to  feel  more  what  a  fearful  dream  I 
have  been  in  for  some  days  past,  and  I  do  more  fully 
cast  myself  before  his  throne,  who  might,  had  He  seen 
fit,  have  chastened  me  so  much  more  severely.  My 
precious  treasure  looks  still  very  ill,  and  coughs  sadly. 
Many  an  anxious  moment  yet  remains  before  I  can  feel 
sure  that  it  will  please  his  heavenly  Physician  to  restore 
him  to  former  vigor  and  health  ;  but  there  is  so  much 
improvement,  I  indulge  a  hope  he  will  be  able  to  bless 
me  and  his  people,  and  do  such  little  humble  service  as 
he  can  render  his  Master  on  earth.  His  own  mind  has 
never  for  a  moment  been  disturbed  ;  it  has  been  calm 
and  serene  as  the  most  peaceful  lake." 

"  March  28.  —  God  be  praised,  my  mind  is  now  at 
ease,  and  the  cloud  is  breaking  fast  and  letting  the  sun 
shine  through  again. 

"  April  2. —  ...  I  have  felt  during  my  anxiety  that 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        I99 

I  could  not  utter  long  prayers  or  well  connected  ones ; 
but  that  my  whole  life  was  a  continual  prayer,  and  for 
this  reason  I  rejoiced  to  be  alone.  When  I  was  not  in 
the  room  with  my  beloved  Augustus,  which  was  only  at 
mealtimes,  and  when  I  went  out  into  the  garden  for  a 
short  time,  I  felt  I  was  alone  with  Him  who  could  help, 
and  would  assuredly  strengthen  if  I  asked  ;  and  though  I 
could  not  feel  ready  and  submissive  to  resign  all  at  his 
bidding,  I  did  pray  most  sincerely  to  be  enabled  more 
and  more  to  be  brought  to  this,  and  that  the  present 
warning  might  in  this  way  be  blest  to  us  both.  I  am 
certain  I  was  able  to  go  on  better  from  having  no  one,  no, 
not  the  nearest  and  dearest  friend  to  speak  to  and  dwell 
upon  the  circumstances  when  at  liberty  and  leisure  to  do 
so.  When  I  was  not  engaged  with  him,  it  was  far  better 
to  be  thrown  upon  one's  own  reflections,  which  naturally 
led  one  above  this  world  to  seek  His  grace  and  comfort, 
who  will  hear,  however  weak  and  faithless  our  petitions 
are,  and  miserably  weak  one  does  feel  at  such  a  time. 
.  .  .  And  now  that  it  has  pleased  our  Lord  to  take  away 
his  chastening  hand  and  restore  to  us  our  bright  earthly 
happiness,  you  must  pray  for  us,  my  own  Luce,  that  we 
may  not  forget  how  thankful  we  should  be.  Now,  in- 
deed, there  is  no  fear  of  it,  with  the  remembrance  of  the 
anxiety  so  lately  felt ;  but  our  hearts  too  soon  get  used 
to  their  blessings,  and  forget  how  easily  and  how  readily 
they  may  be  taken  away." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Stanley. 

"  April  13,  1833. — Your  plan  was  exactly  One  we 
were  talking  of  one  day  as  so  useful,  —  that  of  realizing 
more  the  passing  events  of  our  holy  week ;  and  though 
there  was  no  church  service  except  on  the  Friday,  as  there 


200  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

would  have  been  had  the  pastor  been  among  his  people, 
at  home  we  got  our  little  chapters  and  prayers  in  the 
evening.  Now  he  is  weak  in  voice,  I  generally  read  the 
verses,  and  then  he  comments  on  them  after ;  he  reads 
the  collects  and  prayers,  and  I  say  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
and  so  we  jointly  get  through  our  little  humble  service. 
.  .  .  Augustus's  confinement  and  inability  to  do  any 
thing  is  more  trying  perhaps  now  when  he  is  better  than 
it  was  when  he  was  entirely  incapacitated ;  but  God's 
will  must  be  ours,  and  his  time  ours,  and  slight  indeed 
is  the  trial  of  our  patience  He  at  present  sends.  May 
it  prepare  us  for  the  far  greater  that  may  one  day  be  our 
portion." 

"April  21.  —  I  cannot  close  this  day  —  so  beautiful 
without,  and  so  full  of  thanksgiving  within  —  without 
making  our  dear  Luce  share  in  its  great  blessings.  The 
sun  has  shone  with  almost  a  summer  heat,  and  the  air, 
for  the  first  time  this  spring,  has  been  most  balmy  and 
delicious,  as  if  to  invite  the  dear  pastor  once  more  to 
his  church.  He  was  afraid  of  undertaking  a  full  service 
or  the  whole  morning  one,  so  got  Mr  Caulfield  to  take 
that  for  him  ;  and  this  afternoon  we  had  the  happiness 
of  going  again  together  into  God's  house.  Scarcely 
could  I  restrain  my  tears  when  he  entered  his  desk,  and 
you  may  think  how  freely  they  flowed  when,  before  the 
general  thanksgiving,  he  rose  up  and  said  that,  having 
been  so  long  unable  from  illness  to  officiate  in  that 
place,  he  begged  now  to  offer  his  humble  and  hearty 
thanks  to  God  for  being  restored  again  to  health,  and 
then  in  the  customary  place  added,  '  especially  for  Thy 
servant  who  now  desires  to  return  thanks  for  Thy  late 
mercies  vouchsafed  unto  him.'  " 

"May  1 6.  —  I  am  sure  you  will  fancy  yourself  in  the 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        201 

little  church.  Now  Augustus  has  got  to  two  services 
again,  it  seems  quite  like  old  times;  and  yesterday, 
Ascension  Day,  we  had  prayers  and  a  'postilling'  as 
usual.  What  weather  this  is  !  I  never  knew  so  enjoy- 
able a  May.  In  a  week  every  thing  has  become  perfect 
summer,  and  the  foliage  is  quite  thick.  I  am  writing  to 
the  music  of  a  swarm  of  bees,  which,  as  usual,  have 
betaken  themselves  to  our  chimney." 

"  May  28.  —  Last  night  we  had  our  thanksgiving 
supper,  the  preface  to  which  was  the  verse  out  Nehe- 
miah  viii.  10.  Twelve  dear  old  people  thankfully  par- 
took of  '  the  portion  prepared  for  them,'  and  expressed 
much  joy  at  seeing  Mr.  Hare  so  well  again." 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Leamington ,  May  2,  1833.  —  Yesterday  we  went  to 
visit  our  Wesleyan  Methodist  friend,  Mr.  Whitehead. 
Do  you  remember  in  our  favorite  tract  it  says,  how 
much  easier  it  is  to  talk  of  religion  than  to  talk  re- 
ligiously? He  does  the  latter.  ...  I  see  that  the 
holy  Calvinist  and  the  holy  Methodist  walk  on  the  ex- 
treme sides  of  the  narrow  path,  and  yet  their  eye  is  on 
the  same  object,  their  hand  on  the  same  staff,  and  if 
either  faint  or  fall  the  same  words  of  hope  and  comfort 
lift  them  up.  It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  this  strongly 
when  living  with  Christians  who  are  one  in  spirit,  but 
two  in  doctrine." 

Towards  the  end  of  July,  the  Augustus  Hares 
went  to  Alderley  Rectory,  and  while  they  were 
there  Marcus  Hare  was  invited  to  Alderley  Park, 
which  he  left  engaged  to  Lucy  Stanley,  the  beloved 
friend  of  his  sister-in-law. 


202  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

Lucy  Anne  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Alder  ley,  August  28,  1833.  —  My  heart  is  too  full. 
It  is  like  a  cup  full  to  the  brim,  and  I  am  afraid  of 
letting  one  drop  escape,  for  fear  the  whole  should  over- 
flow. The  only  thing  I  am  sure  of  is  that,  amid  all  its 
contending  feelings,  a  sense  of  grateful  happiness  is  at 
the  top,  and  that  I  may  cheerfully  and  confidently  go 
forward,  assured  that  the  same  Father  and  Saviour 
who  has  led  me  thus  far  will  never  place  his  weak  and 
strength-needing  child  in  any  pasture  so  beautiful,  as  to 
make  her  forget  the  everlasting  home,  where  there  shall 
be  neither  marrying  nor  giving  in  marriage,  but  when,  as 
St.  Mark's  hymn  ends,  — 

'The  saints  beneath  their  Saviour's  eye, 
Fill'd  with  each  other's  company, 
Shall  spend  in  love  th'  eternal  day.'" 

Julius  Hare  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  September  9,  1833.  —  God  be  praised 
for  the  great  blessing  he  has  bestowed  on  our  dear 
Marcus,  and  on  us  all !  I  know  you  will  deem  it  a 
blessing ;  so  will  Augustus,  who  already  loved  Lucy  as  a 
sister ;  and  I  feel  as  if  it  will  also  be  a  very  great  one 
to  me,  although  I  have  hitherto  remained  in  the  back- 
ground, and  perhaps,  but  for  this  marriage,  might  never 
have  become  cordially  intimate  with  her.  Meetings  of 
two  or  three  days,  with  years  between  them,  are  a  scanty 
foundation  for  friendship  to  spring  from.  Now,  however, 
the  ice  is  broken ;  she  will  assuredly  do  us  all  much 
good ;  and  I  hope  and  trust  that  she  herself  will  be  a 
gainer  by  the  marriage,  that  at  least  in  this  world  it  will 
make  her  happier.  It  would  have  been  a  great  thing  if 
Marcus  married  a  person  who  did  not  slacken  the  bonds 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        203 

that  unite  us  j  but  he  seems  to  have  chosen  the  only 
person  in  the  world  that  will  draw  them  tighter  and 
closer.  Marcus's  speech  to  Lucy,  '  that  he  had  never  in 
his  life  done  what  he  liked,  except  in  marrying  her,' 
seems  to  me  one  of  the  most  beautiful  compliments 
(that  is  not  the  word,  but  I  cannot  think  of  a  better)  ever 
paid ;  and  we  who  have  known  him  from  his  childhood 
know  how  true  it  is.  It  would  be  indeed  very  delightful 
if  I  could  bring  you  here  from  Alderley.  I  should  like 
to  have  you  here  while  every  thing  is  in  full  beauty ;  and 
though  my  house  will  not  be  in  apple-pie  order,  you  will 
not  growl  very  much  at  that.  Besides',  I  shall  try,  if 
possible,  to  get  Marcus  and  Lucy  for  a  day  or  two  on 
their  way.  I  know  that  every  day  will  be  precious  to 
them,  and  I  would  not  ask  it,  if  I  did  not  think  that  I 
might  be  of  some  use  to  them,  in  talking  to  them  about 
what  they  are  to  see  and  admire,  and  showing  them  some 
of  the  spoils  I  have  brought  back  from  Rome,  such  as 
prints,  casts,  and  so  on,  which  will  prepare  them  for 
what  they  are  to  find.  It  is  a  matter  of  great  importance 
to  have  one's  eyes  properly  opened.  And  oh,  what  a  joy 
it  would  be  to  me  to  have  my  two  beloved  brothers  and 
my  two  beloved  sisters  here  !  My  big  house  would  not 
look  lonely  again  through  the  whole  winter.  The  very 
chairs  would  begin  to  dance  and  sing  for  joy,  instead  of 
standing  so  sullenly  round  the  room,  scowling,  because, 
in  spite  of  all  the  temptations  they  hold  out,  nobody 
comes  to  sit  on  them." 

On  the  1 8th  of  September,  Augustus  and  Maria 
Hare  returned  to  Alderley,  where  the  wedding 
took  place  on  the  24th.  While  there,  his  failing 
health  was  so  apparent  that  the  family  persuaded 


204  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

him  to  consent  to  give  up  his  duty  for  a  time,  and 
to  accompany  the  newly  married  pair  to  Italy,  all 
difficulties  about  expense  being  overruled  by  Mr. 
Leycester's  liberality. 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"Alton,  October  3.  —  This  has  been  a  sad  week. 
Augustus's  cough  has  been  much  worse  since  we  reached 
home,  and  he  has  been  very  weak  and  incapable  of  any 
exertion.  Yesterday  and  to-day  I  think  he  has  begun 
to  rally  a  little,  otherwise  I  felt  quite  in  fear  how  he 
would  bear  the  travelling,  being  so  weak. 

"  The  way  the  people  speak  of  our  going  is  very  touch- 
ing. There  is  not  a  dissentient  voice  about  the  good  of 
it,  if  it  is  likely  to  do  Mr.  Hare  good,  though  mixed  with 
regret  of  their  own.  An  old  man  in  Great  Alton,  who 
fell  down  yesterday  and  broke  his  thigh,  told  Augustus 
to-day,  *  Ah,  sir,  when  I  could  not  sleep  last  night,  I  did 
pray  God  would  bring  you  back  to  us  safe  and  well ; ' 
and  that  seemed  the  uppermost  thought  of  his  heart  in 
the  midst  of  all  his  pain.  They  of  course  look  at  his 
pale  face  and  think  him  worse  than  he  really  is.  It 
would  never  have  done  to  stay  here  and  be  unable  to 
do  any  thing.  It  grieves  him  so  to  be  a  cipher  in  his 
own  church.     We  have  some  trouble  in  getting  help." 

Those  who  were  present  retain  a  touching 
remembrance  of  the  love  which  Augustus  Hare 
manifested  for  his  people  at  a  farewell  supper 
which  he  gave  to  them  in  his  barn  a  few  days 
before  he  left  England.  After  he  had  parted  from 
them  with  prayer  and  a  short  exhortation,  he 
was  sitting  quietly  in  the  drawing-room,  when  the 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        205 

singers,  underneath  the  window,  unexpectedly  be- 
gan the  Evening  Hymn.  Quickly  unfastening 
the  shutter,  his  face  working  with  emotion,  he 
threw  up  the  sash,  exclaiming,  "  Dear  people,  how 
can  I  leave  you ! "  and  then  sank  back  on  a  chair 
quite  exhausted  by  the  mental  conflict,  and  then  a 
terrible  fit  of  coughing  came  on. 

Tuesday,  October  22d,  was  his  last  morning  at 
Alton,  and  many  were  the  sad  forebodings  which 
his  looks  inspired  in  the  hearts  of  his  people. 
"They  seemed,"  wrote  Mr.  Majendie,  "to  realize 
during  his  sermon  on  the  previous  Sunday  that 
they  were  about  to  lose  him,  and  they  then  began 
to  sorrow  most  of  all  that  they  should  see  his  face 
no  more.  His  manner  during  that  service  re- 
minded one  of  the  lines  of  Baxter :  — 

'  To  preach  as  if  you  ne'er  would  preach  again, 
And  as  a  dying  man  —  to  dying  men.'  " 

The  amusing  difficulties  of  Julius's  housekeeping 
were  the  chief  topic  of  that  last  evening ;  he  had 
already  spoken  of  them  by  letter. 

Julius  Hare  to  Augustus  W.  Hark 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  October  15,  1833. — With  regard  to 
pupil-taking  I  wanted  to  know  your  opinion.  ...  I 
myself  am  no  less  averse  to  it  than  you  can  be,  both 
from  taste  and  from  principle ;  for  I  fear  that  even 
without  them  T  shall  have  little  time  enough  for  any 
thing  beyond  the  work  of  the  week,  and  I  cannot  help 
grieving  at  the  thought  that  all  I  have  been  doing,  all 
I  have  been  laboring  to  acquire  for  the  last  five-and- 


206  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

twenty  years,  is  to  be  utterly  thrown  away,  and  for 
what  ?  In  order  to  do,  or  rather  to  fail  in  doing,  that 
which  tens  of  thousands  would  have  done  quite  as  well, 
and  thousands  far  better  than  I  can  do.  Your  woman- 
kind won't  understand  or  sympathize  with  me  in  this  ; 
but  they  are  no  authority  on  such  matters.  Women 
are  too  purely  heavenly-minded,  —  that  is  to  say,  when 
they  are  so  at'  all,  religion  is  to  them  every  thing ;  and 
they  cannot  see  religion  in  any  thing  but  religion. 
Science,  philosophy,  statecraft,  they  know  nothing  about, 
and  therefore  of  course  cannot  care  about.  But  as  I  am 
two  thousand  pounds  out  of  pocket  by  my  living,  I  am 
not  sure  that  I  ought  not,  as  a  matter  of  duty,  to  take 
pupils,  so  long  at  least  as  that  I  may  lift  my  head  above 
water,  and  clear  off  my  debts.  What  Marcus  says  about 
my  parting  with  my  servants  I  do  not  attach  much 
weight  to.  Elphick  is  the  only  one  who  would  be  a 
great  loss,  and  he  would  rather  cut  his  hand  off  than 
quit  the  place ;  only,  if  his  wife  goes,  he  will  cease  to 
be  an  indoor  servant.  ...  I  must  say  a  little  more 
about  Mrs.  Elphick.  It  is  true  she  is  not  your  Mary ; 
but  where  can  I  find  another  Mary  ?  She  has  lived 
before  in  this  house ;  and  where  could  I  get  any  one 
else  ?  My  cow,  though  an  Alderney,  and  a  delightful 
gentle  creature,  certainly  gives  very  little  and  poor 
milk.  This  may  be  partly  owing  to  the  badness  of  her 
pasture,  which,  as  we  had  hardly  a  drop  of  rain  for 
above  twelve  weeks,  is,  or  rather  was  the  other  day,  so 
wretched  on  my  hill,  that  the  cattle  took  to  browsing 
upon  the  sweetbriar  hedge.  I  myself  saw  Elphick 
churning  away,  and  no  butter  would  come  of  it.  That 
this  is  not  a  thing  totally  unheard  of  appears  from  that 
delightful  passage  of  Ben  Jonson  quoted  in  the  Phil. 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  CLOUD.        207 

Mus.,  ii.  211.  That  Mrs.  Elphick  is  not  inexpert  in 
dairy  lore  she  proved  last  year,  when  they  bought  an 
old  cow  of  my  uncle's  for  four  pounds  (mine  cost  eleven), 
and  made  near  two  hundred  pounds  of  butter  in  six 
months.  But  that  was  with  an  old-fashioned  churn ; 
mine,  that  gives  nothing,  is  a  new-fangled  one,  that  is 
turned  round  like  a  wheel.  On  my  return  from  Alder- 
ley,  when  I  was  asking  whether  the  cow  was  improved, 
she  told  me  what  struck  me  as  strange,  that  they  never 
used  a  drop  either  of  milk  or  cream  for  the  servants. 
With  her,  she  says,  it  does  not  agree,  and  that  she  never 
eats  any  butter.  '  But  what  have  the  men  for  break- 
fast?' '  Bread  and  cheese,  and  meat  and  beer.'  Well, 
this  accounted  for  the  magnitude  of  my  butcher's  bills, 
and  my  great  consumption  of  beer.  But  of  course,  un- 
less it  be  the  custom  to  allow  them  only  bread  and  milk 
for  breakfast,  I  can  scarcely  set  the  example.  The 
women  have  tea.  '  What  is  done  with  the  milk  then  ? ' 
*  Given  to  the  dogs,  or  thrown  away.'  This  set  me  on 
inquiring.  ■ Thrown  away '  does  not  mean  given  to  the 
pigs,  for  I  have  none  yet,  nor  a  stye.  Such  vulgar 
animals  were  not  allowed  to  come  near  the  rectory 
under  the  ancien  regime,  and  the  carpenter  has  had  too 
much  to  do  hitherto  in  providing  lodgings  for  my  books, 
which  even  I  thought  deserved  to  be  helped  first.  As 
to  dogs,  I  believe  I  have  none  of  Arctis  sort.  But 
George  (my  foot-boy),  who  has  a  great  love  for  animals, 
has  a  spaniel ;  and  a  Newfoundland  was  brought  the 
other  day  for  approbation,  but  was  too  beautiless  for 
such  a  slave  of  the  eye  as  I  am.  So  after  some  days 
he  was  dismissed. 

"  I  had  a  letter  to-day  telling  me  that  another  beloved 
friend  is  on  the  point  of  taking  a  wife,  —  Digby.     His 


208  RECORDS   OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

letter  is  one  of  the  most  singular  I  ever  read,  one  of  the 
most  melancholy,  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful.  He 
mourns  over  the  prospect  that  he  must  no  longer  be 
melancholy,  over  '  having  been  made  to  know  the  very 
alarming  truth  that  he  is  a  rich  man,'  about  having 
'  been  made  to  hear  that  he  is  supremely  happy  in  this 
world ! '  *  I  do  feel,'  he  says,  '  a  secret  horror  at  the 
thought  of  rest  and  happiness  on  earth.'  I  have  also 
an  interesting  letter  from  Arnold,  who  says,  'As  you 
met  Bunsen  in  Italy,  you  can  now  sympathize  with  the 
ail-but  idolatry  with  which  I  regard  him.  So  beautifully 
good,  so  wise,  and  so  noble-minded  !  I  do  not  believe 
that  any  man  alive  can  have  a  deeper  interest  in  Rome 
than  I  have ;  yet  I  envy  you  nothing  in  your  last  year's 
stay  there  so  much  as  your  continued  intercourse  with 
Bunsen.'  And  all  these  men  are  my  friends,  my  dear 
fond  friends,  loving  me  and  esteeming  me,  so  far  above 
what  I  deserve.  I  can  never  keep  my  heart  from  bound- 
ing with  gratitude,  when  I  think  over  the  long  list  of 
great  and  good  men  who  have  deigned  to  call  me  friend. 
.  .  .  And  now  I  must  have  done.  So  God  bless  you, 
and  mind  you,  as  our  dear  aunt  used  to  say ;  for  body- 
minding  at  least  you  are  in  sore  need  of." 


XII. 

FROM   SUNSHINE  INTO  SHADE. 

"  Death  is  the  justification  of  all  the  ways  of  the  Chris- 
tian, the  last  end  of  all  his  sacrifices,  —  that  touch  of  the 
great  Master  which  completes  the  picture."  —  Madame 
Swetchine. 

"  Dear,  beauteous  Death,  the  jewel  of  the  just, 
Shining  nowhere  but  in  the  dark, 
What  mysteries  do  lie  beyond  thy  dust ; 
Could  man  outlook  that  mark ! " 

Henry  Vaughan,  1690. 

/^VN  the  23d  October  the  Augustus  and  Marcus 
^^  Hares  embarked  together  at  Southampton  in 
the  Camilla,  Julius  watching  them  from  the  pier  till 
they  were  out  of  sight,  and  the  following  morning 
they  arrived  at  Havre,  after  a  very  stormy  passage. 
Hence  they  began  to  post  through  France  in  their 
own  two  carriages  ;  "  the  strange  barbarity  of  the 
harness  and  dress  of  the  postilions,  and  the  miser- 
able horses  with  their  fiery  eyes,"  striking  them  at 
first,  as  they  did  all  foreign  travellers  in  those  days. 
By  Rouen,  Louviers,  and  Mantes,  they  reached 
Paris,  where  they  remained  several  days,  and  then 
by  Fontainebleau,  Sens,  and  Auxerre  (with  the 
picturesqueness   of   which  they  were   greatly   de- 


2IO  RECORDS   OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

lighted),  to  Rouvray  and  Chalons.  Hence  they 
took  the  Saone  steamer  to  Lyons. 

The  travellers  left  Nice  Dec.  3,  and,  after  a 
delightful  journey  through  the  beauties  of  the 
Riviera,  arrived  at  Genoa  on  the  7th. 

It  was  on  the  evening  of  the  7th  of  December 
that  some  matters  connected  with  the  dismissal  of 
Belloud  had  to  be  arranged  before  the  Court  at 
Genoa.  As  Marcus  was  unable  to  speak  either 
French  or  Italian,  Augustus  was  obliged  to  go 
with  him  through  a  cold  night  air  and  to  exert 
himself  greatly.  As  soon  as  he  returned  to  the 
Hotel  of  the  Croce  di  Malta  he  went  to  bed,  but 
the  excitement  and  fatigue  brought  on  an  unusual 
fit  of  coughing,  and,  while  Mary  Lea  was  alone  in 
the  room  with  him,  he  burst  a  blood-vessel.  For 
a  long  time  he  hovered  between  life  and  death,  and 
his  wife  never  left  him,  except  for  a  daily  walk  on 
the  ramparts,  which  she  always  afterwards  asso- 
ciated with  that  period  of  anxiety  when  her  happi- 
ness first  seemed  to  be  crumbling  away. 

Maria  Hare  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  O.  Leycester. 

"  Genoa,  Dec.  25,  1833.  —  I  fear  your  Christmas  will 
have  been  clouded  by  the  sad  tidings  we  have  been 
forced  to  send  you.  Would  you  could  see  how  favorably 
we  are  now  going  on  !  Each  day  he  makes  some  little 
step.  It  is  quite  like  May  in  the  sun,  and  we  have 
a  little  balcony,  where  Augustus  can  now  sit  out  and 
enjoy  the  beautiful  view  of  the  harbor  and  one  side  of 
the  town.     It  is  only  since  he  has  been  less  ill  that  I 


FROM    SUNSHINE    INTO    SHADE.  211 

feel  what  the  illness  has  been  to  me,  and  you  must  not 
now  wonder  if  I  cannot  write  very  steadily.  The  un- 
speakable mercy  of  having  him  better  overwhelms  me ; 
and  I  do  feel  my  own  utter  unworthiness  to  have  such  a 
blessing  granted  when  I  think  how  impossible  I  find  it 
to  resign  my  will  to  God's  when  his  seems  to  be  con- 
trary to  mine.  The  time  here  has  completely  swept 
away  the  remembrance  of  what  went  before,  and  I  can 
scarcely  even  recall  by  what  road  we  came  to  Genoa. 
It  all  seems  like  a  dream.  Oh,  be  thankful  with  me  that 
it  has  pleased  God  to  spare  me  this  once,  and  implore 
earnestly  for  me  strength  to  bear  whatever  He  may  in 
future  think  good  to  lay  on  me,  either  of  anxiety  or 
trouble.  .  .  . 

"  I  delight  in  my  daily  walk  of  an  hour  on  the  ram- 
parts, with  the  waves  dashing  up  on  one  side,  and  so 
beautiful  an  inland  view  of  Genoa.  Mary  has  kept  up 
wonderfully,  and  been  most  invaluable  in  her  attentions, 
and  truly  hers  is  a  willing  service,  for  she  puts  her  whole 
heart  into  it,  and  is  repaid  for  every  fatigue  when  she 
sees  any  amendment  in  her  master." 

Maria  Hare  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  O.  Leycester. 

"Pisa,  Jan.  3,  1834.  —  Most  thankfully  do  I  announce 
our  prosperous  arrival  here.  A  more  perfect  May-day 
could  not  have  been  for  Augustus  to  begin  his  journey 
on.  .  .  .  We  reached  Chiavari  at  four  j  found  Marcus 
and  the  waiter  ready  with  a  chair  to  carry  the  sick  man 
up,  —  a  good  fire,  warm  room,  and  bed  ready,  —  and  so 
ended  the  first  day  to  which  we  had  looked  forward  with 
the  chief  fear.  .  .  .  The  scenery  for  the  next  two  days 
was  most  beautiful.  I  can  scarcely  say  I  enjoyed  it,  but 
I  have  never  seen  any  thing  I  admired  more.     There 


212  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

appears  to  be  nothing  to  admire  in  the  country  round 
Pisa;  but,  as  we  came  in,  the  brilliancy  of  the  sky  at 
sunset  behind  the  Leaning  Tower  and  the  domes  of  the 
town  was  most  beautiful.  .  .  .  There  seems  nothing  now 
to  be  done  for  Augustus  but  to  get  him  as  quickly  as  we 
can  to  Rome,  where  his  native  air  will  do  more  than  any 
medicines." 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"Pisa,  Jan.  6.  —  ...  I  almost  wonder  that  Italy  is 
recommended  to  delicate  people,  the  changes  of  tem- 
perature are  so  sudden.  To  look  out  of  the  windows 
along  the  Lung'  Arno,  you  would  think  by  the  men's 
dress  you  were  in  Russia;  all  wrapped  up  in  great 
cloaks,  often  lined  with  fur,  and  holding  them  up  to 
their  mouths  as  you  see  in  pictures  of  winter.  Look 
again  at  the  women,  and  they  are  going  past  in  lace  veils 
over  their  heads,  or  with  gold  earrings  hanging  down  on 
the  neck,  very  like  what  our  grandmothers  used  to  wear 
from  their  watches,  hanging  from  the  belt. 

"  I  have  just  seen  the  Leaning  Tower,  so  associated 
in  my  mind  with  childish  recollections  ;  and  it  is  one  of 
the  proofs  I  have  often  felt  of  how  different  a  seeing 
impression  is  from  a  hearsay  one. ,  It  does  look  very 
strange  certainly,  exactly  as  if  some  one  was  pushing  it 
down,  and  it  surprises  one  never  to  see  it  go  any  further. 
The  Campo-Santo  is  most  interesting,  and  Augustus 
tells  me  my  education  ought  to  begin  there,  as  it  contains 
the  best  specimens  of  Giotto,  Orcagna,  Gozzoli,  &c. 
You  would  be  intensely  interested  in  Orcagna's  frescos, 
which  are  most  Dantesque  in  conception  and  spirit.  But 
my  present  recollections  of  art  are  all  in  favor  of  a  beau- 
tiful dead  head  of  Christ  with  the  Madonna,  by  Michel 


FROM   SUNSHINE    INTO   SHADE.  213 

Angelo,  in  the  Albergo  dei  Poveri  at  Genoa,  and  two 
most  exquisite  pictures  of  Fra  Bartolomeo  at  Lucca, 
which  reach  a  degree  of  beauty  beyond  any  thing  I  ever 
saw." 

Maria  Hare  to  E.  Penrhyn,  Esq. 

"Rome,  Feb.  1,  1834.  —  I  write  with  but  a  sad  heart, 
for  I  haye  little  good  to  tell.  We  are  at  last  settled  in 
our  lodgings,  and  are  very  comfortable  as  to  rooms. 
Augustus  and  I  have  two,  opening  into  each  other,  one 
of  which  has  full  morning  sun,  and  is  so  warm  we  never 
need  a  fire  till  after  sunset.  It  is  very  quiet,  too,  and 
looks  out  on  the  church  of  the  Trinita  de'  Monti.  We  have 
besides  two  sitting-rooms,  and  M.  and  L.'s  bedroom  and 
dressing-room  with  servants'  rooms,  for  twenty-two  louis 
a  month,  which  at  this  time  is  considered  very  cheap. 
We  moved  into  them  last  Tuesday,  and  feel  all  the 
comfort,  after  our  long  wanderings,  of  being  at  last 
stationary.  I  wish  I  could  add  that  we  had  the  comfort 
of  seeing  any  amendment  in  my  poor  Augustus,  but  at 
present  I  fear  there  is  none.  .  .  For  some  days  he  went 
out  for  an  hour  at  twelve  o'clock  on  the  Pincio  or  in  the 
Borghese  Gardens,  and  got  out  of  the  carriage  for  ten 
minutes  to  bask  in  the  sun,  but  now  he  is  not  able.  .  .  . 

"  The  only  thing  I  have  seen,  except  St.  Peter's,  is  the 
view  from  Bunsen's  house  on  the  Capitol.  .  .  .  He  has 
lived  here  for  seventeen  years,  and  has  a  love  for  an- 
tiquities and  art  which  will  be  most  useful  to  us.  But  at 
present  I  not  only  grudge  wasting  such  good  things  with 
a  mind  so  little  at  ease,  but  I  find  that  the  strain  upon 
my  attention  only  makes  me  feel  doubly  the  anxiety 
awaiting  my  return." 


214  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"  On  Thursday  Marcus  took  me  in  a  carriage  up  to 
the  Capitol  where  Bunsen  lives.  Except  that  moonlight 
vision  of  grandeur  in  entering  Rome,  I  had  as  yet  seen 
nothing  but  the  view  from  the  Pincio  over  modern 
Rome.  Think  then  of  our  delight,  upon  being  shown 
into  Bunsen's  room,  to  look  down  upon  all  most  inter- 
esting objects  in  the  ancient  city  lying  beneath  us,  with 
the  mountains  and  the  towns  of  Frascati  and  Albano 
lit  up  by  the  evening  sun  in  the  background.  We  were 
so  occupied  in  looking  out  of  the  window  as  not  to  see 
Mrs.  Bunsen  come  in,  and  could  hardly  turn  away  to 
speak  to  her.  Soon  after  he  came  in :  it  is  a  square 
figure  and  round  face,  with  a  very  German  look  expres- 
sive of  benevolence,  in  which  one  finds  out  by  degrees 
the  lines  of  thought  and  intelligence.  Then  we  asked 
to  look  again  at  the  view,  and  he,  with  the  utmost  clear- 
ness, in  English,  pointed  out  to  us  the  details.  Having 
gone  through  them  from  the  drawing-room  windows,  he 
took  us  through  the  salon  to  his  own  study,  and  thence 
for  the  first  time  we  saw  the  Coliseum,  the  Temple  of 
Peace,  St.  John  Lateran,  and,  far  beyond,  the  Sabine 
Hills.  Having  studied  all  that  side,  he  took  us  to 
another  window  and  balcony,  which  looked  out  on  St. 
Peter's  and  the  whole  of  modern  Rome,  the  different 
views  forming  the  most  complete  panorama.  I  felt  at 
home  with  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bunsen  immediately,  and 
five  out  of  the  nine  children  were  running  about  with 
that  sort  of  tact  of  well  brought-up  children  that  are 
never  in  the  way,  yet  always  of  the  party.  They  took  us 
down  into  the  garden,  and  showed  us  an  Indian  fig-tree 
they  had  planted  seventeen  years  ago,  on  first  coming, 
when  they  found  neither  doors  nor  windows  in  the 
house." 


FROM   SUNSHINE    INTO    SHADE.  215 


Catharine  Stanley  to  Maria  Hare. 

"Feb.  3.  —  How  many  people  have  burst  into  tears  like 
you  at  the  first  sight  of  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's ;  but 
surely  no  one  ever  did  it  with  such  mingled  emotions,  — 
the  point  of  hope  for  so  long,  —  all  associations  lost  in 
comparison  with  the  one  prime  object ;  and  yet  not  lost, 
for  if  it  had  been  Lucca,  Pisa,  any  other  place  that  was 
to  cure  him,  the  sight  would  have  been  welcomed,  yet 
not  have  affected  you  in  the  same  way.  .  .  If  Augustus 
had  not  the  self-denial  to  forbear  letting  down  the  win- 
dow and  scolding  the  post-boy,  how  will  he  be  kept  from 
falking  to  Bunsen,"  &c.  .  .  . 

"Feb.  n.  —  I  am  obliged  to  repeat  to  myself  very 
often,  '  No  amendment  is  to  be  expected  under  three 
weeks,'  but  it  was  impossible  not  to  feel  disappointed 
that,  when  the  first  fatigue  of  the  journey  was  over,  the 
cough  was  the  same ;  but  the  excitement  of  it  is  not  over 
yet,  —  in  short,  we  must  rest  in  patience  and  hope.  .  .  . 
How  I  did  feel  that  I  went  with  you  to  Bunsen's  salon ! 
and  I  had  been  thinking,  as  you  had  probably,  only  of 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  Bunsen,  and  forgot  the  situation  ; 
and  now,  if  you  were  to  see  no  more  than  those  two 
views,  would  they  not  be  worth  a  great  deal,  —  worth  all 
that  we  could  read,  or  fancy,  or  learn,  from  every  picture 
or  plan  that  could  be  studied  ?  I  recur  again  and  again 
to  the  comfort  this  place  and  these  people  will  be  to  you 
when  no  other  sight-seeing  or  people-seeing  could  have 
either  interest  or  amusement ;  and  what  a  comfort  it  is 
that  Rome  is  not  merely  a  statue,  and  picture,  and  inside 
seeing  place,  that  if  you  never  enter  a  gallery  you  will 
still  be  seeing  Rome." 


2l6  RECORDS   OF  A   QUIET   LIFE. 


Maria  Hare  to  Rev.  R.  Kilvert. 

"Feb.  6,  1834.  —  ...  I  scarcely  know  how  to  write 
to  you,  and  can  only  do  so  in  forgetting  our  short  ac- 
quaintance, and  presuming  on  that  kind  interest  you 
have  expressed  towards  us,  and  on  that  sympathy  which 
one  Christian  heart  must  feel  for  others  on  whom  God 
lays  his  chastening  hand.  Mr.  Hare  makes  no  progress, 
and  I  have  lately  had  the  anguish  of  learning  that  his 
lungs  are  now  decidedly  affected.  Under  these  circum- 
stances I  try  in  vain  to  be  sanguine,  and,  though  all 
things  are  possible  with  God,  I  cannot  blind  myself  to 
the  persuasion  that  it  is  in  his  eternal  counsels  that  this 
his  servant  should  be  taken  away  from  us.  Augustus 
himself  leaves  all  without  fear  and  anxiety  in  a  Father's 
hands,  and  speaks  with  the  utmost  calmness  of  the  issue, 
mourning  only  over  his  own  unworthiness  in  his  Master's 
service.  May  that  blessed  Master,  who  chastens  because 
He  loves,  strengthen  his  faith  and  mine,  to  increase  his 
joy  and  hope  in  believing,  and  sustain  me  throughout 
the  deep  waters.  He  constantly  says  God  gives  him 
nothing  to  bear,  gives  him  nothing  but  blessings,  yet, 
his  cough  is  very  bad  and  his  weakness  increases.  Your 
prayers,  I  know,  will  be  with  us,  and  those  of  all  our 
affectionate  friends  at  Alton  j  and  we  will  pray  for  them 
also,  that  this  and  every  other  trial  may  lead  them  on 
more  earnestly  to  seek  that  peace  and  rest  which  this 
sorrowing  world  can  never  give." 

Maria  Hare's  Journal. 

"On  Tuesday,  Feb.  11,  Mr.  Burgess  came  and  said 
a  few  comforting  words  to  Augustus,  who  said  that  he 


FROM   SUNSHINE    INTO   SHADE.  21? 

felt  now  '  within  the  fold.'  When  Lucy  came  in,  he  took 
our  hands  and  joined  them  together,  saying,  '  You  must 
comfort  each  other  ; '  he  expressed  a  fear  that  he  might 
not  live  to  receive  the  Sacrament  the  next  day,  and  on 
Lucy  saying,  '  Then  you  will  not  need  it,'  '  No,'  he  said, 
'  but  it  would  be  a  comfort  to  all  of  you  to  receive  it 
with  me.'  He  repeatedly  expressed  the  sense  he  felt  of 
being  forgiven.  '  I  feel  I  am  reconciled  to  God  through 
Christ.  I  have  peace  —  perfect  peace  ;  but  I  have  not 
joy.'  He  said  he  prayed  for  four  things,  —  for  comfort  and 
strength  for  me,  for  a  death  without  much  suffering,  that 
his  death  might  be  edifying,  that  his  successor  at  Alton 
might  love  his  people. 

"On  the  1 2th,  after  Mr.  Burgess  was  gone,  he  said, 
*  There  is  only  one  thing  left  now,  that  is,  to  take  leave 
of  you,  —  when  shall  it  be  ? '  Fearful  every  hour  might 
be  the  last,  I  said  it  had  better  be  now.  '  Then  shut 
the  door  and  give  me  the  orangeade  that  I  may  have 
strength  for  it.'  Having  drank  of  it,  he  raised  himself 
up  with  astonishing  strength,  and,  embracing  me, 
said,  *  I  must  press  you  once  more  to  my  heart ;  you 
have  been  the  dearest,  tenderest,  the  most  affectionate 
of  wives  ; '  and  then  he  prayed  that  I  might  be  strength- 
ened and  comforted.  When  I  spoke  of  meeting  again, 
he  said,  '  No,  not  for  many  years.  You  have  too  many 
on  earth  to  love  you.'  Some  time  after,  '  I  did  not  say 
what  I  ought,  —  the  truest  of  wives  ;  it  has  been  that 
truth  I  so  delighted  in.'  Then  he  gave  me  messages 
for  all,  and  then  said,  '  Every  thing  in  this  world  is  now 
done ;  now  let  me  be  alone,  I  must  go  to  sleep.'  He 
begged  me  to  put  the  locket  on  the  chain  to  put  round 
his  neck,  '  The  first  thing  you  ever  gave  me.'  .  .  . 

"  When  a  bad  coughing  fit  came  on,  he  thought  it  was 


2l8  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  last,  and,  taking  my  hand  in  both  his,  he  raised  it  up, 
saying,  '  Dearest  Mia,'  and  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven, 
as  if  in  prayer." 

Lucy  Anne  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

11  Feb.  18,  1834.  —  The  fever  continued  all  Saturday 
and  Sunday,  his  strength  gradually  sinking,  but  he  still 
retained  his  quietness  and  perfect  clearness  of  mind. 
When  I  went  in  at  nine  on  Monday,  I  had  no  idea  how 
much  worse  he  was.  Maria  was  sitting  by  his  bedside 
with  a  look  of  resigned  misery.  He  remained  all  day 
in  a  kind  of  lethargy.  Francis  seemed  unable  to  leave 
the  room.  About  five  o'clock  in  the  evening,  Marcus 
brought  in  a  letter  from  you  and  one  from  Mr.  Oswald 
Leycester,  and  just  gave  them  to  Maria  as  she  stood  by 
the  bed,  Augustus  apparently  insensible  of  every  thing. 
Maria  gave  them  to  me  to  put  away.  Two  hours  after, 
Augustus  said  to  her,  '  You  had  two  letters,  what  were 
they  ?  Was  one  from  Kitty  ?  You  know  I  always  like 
to  hear  what  she  says.'  A  few  moments  after  he  had 
forgotten  it  all  again.  Mr.  Oswald's  letter  told  them  of 
^200,  —  how  he  will  rejoice  it  came  just  in  time.  All 
night  he  was  quiet,  but  when  Dr.  Thompson  came  in  the 
morning,  he  said  he  was  sinking  and  could  not  last  be- 
yond sunset.  On  Sunday  morning  he  had  offered  up  a 
prayer  in  his  own  words,  so  full  of  gratitude,  saying  that 
even  the  annoyances  of  his  illness  were  almost  turned 
to  blessings  by  the  comforts  and  luxuries  around  him 
...  I  have  come  now  into  the  next  room  to  write. 
Oh,  the  contrast  between  that  dark  silent  chamber,  and 
the  glorious  sun  shining  through  the  window  on  my 
paper !  but  at  this  moment  I  am  not  sad,  I  can  think  of 
nothing  but  the  far  brighter  sun  which  will  soon  burst 
upon  his  sight." 


FROM    SUNSHINE    INTO    SHADE.  2K) 

Bunsen  to  Arnold. 

11  Feb.  19.  — .  .  .  Our  dear  Augustus  Hare  has  left  us. 
When  this  arrives,  you  will  already  have  known  that  he 
expired  yesterday,  in  a  state  of  perfect  bliss.  He  had 
given  previous  directions  that  he  should  be  buried  by  the 
side  of  my  children.  I  saw  him  twice,  and  loved  him 
from  the  first  moment.  His  thoughts  were  always  with 
his  friends,  his  country,  his  Church,  but  above  all,  and  up 
to  the  last  moment,  with  his  Saviour.  Requiescat  in 
pace !  His  excellent  wife  has  shown  herself  worthy  of 
such  a  husband."* 

Maria  Hare  to  Miss  Miller. 

"  Rome,  Feb.  27.  —  How  shall  I  write  to  you,  my  dear 
friend  ?  ...  You  know  what  our  happiness  was,  and 
that  I  always  rejoiced  in  trembling.  I  knew  it  could  not 
last  long,  but  yet  so  buoyant  is  one's  nature  that  till  the 
last  fortnight  I  was  not  awakened  to  a  sense  how  soon 
it  was  to  end.  .  .  .  Till  two  o'clock  on  Tuesday  after- 
noon the  spirit  was  struggling  for  its  departure,  and 
when  at  last  its  hour  was  come,  God  in  his  mercy  took 
it  gently  away.  There  was  not  a  shadow  of  pain  or 
struggle  ;  but  my  beloved  Augustus  was  taken  far  above 
earthly  suffering  to  rejoice  in  glory,  to  have  all  his  hun- 
ger and  thirst  after  righteousness  fully  satisfied,  and  bit- 
ter, bitter  as  that  moment  was,  one  could  not  but  feel 
that  to  him  it  was  one  of  unspeakable  gain.  It  was  on 
Tuesday,  in  the  intervals  of  coughing,  and  rousing  him- 
self with  a  great  effort  from  a  lethargy,  that  he  said, 
*  Tell  Miss  Miller  I  cannot  write  to  her,  but  she  does  not 
need  any  thing  I  can  say  to  her,  anci*  I  leave  her  my 
dying  blessing.' 

*  This  letter  has  already  appeared  in  Bunsen's  Life. 


220  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

..."  My  Gourd  has  been  taken  away,  but  it  has 
been  transplanted,  a  Tree  of  Righteousness,  into  the 
Father's  kingdom,  and  I  desire  to  bless  and  praise  Him 
who,  for  nearly  five  blessed  years,  has  lent  me  this  pre- 
cious treasure.  He  has  taken  away  my  earthly  idol.  He 
takes  from  me  the  home  I  so  delighted  in,  but  it  is  to  draw 
me  nearer  to  Himself,  and  I  can  only  adore  the  love  which 
chastens.  My  dear  friend,  you  too,  and  our  dear  people, 
will  need  comfort.  May  God  in  his  infinite  mercy  give  it, 
and  grant  one  of  the  last  prayers  of  your  minister,  that 
1  he  who  is  to  come  after  may  love  his  people.'  Heart- 
breaking as  it  is,  I  must  come  to  you  once  again.  If  I 
can  bear  it,  I  shall  stay  with  you  as  long  as  I  can,  and 
you  must  be  sure  that  neither  you  nor  my  other  Alton 
friends  will  ever  be  lost  sight  of.  As  far  as  can  be,  my 
strongest  remaining  wish  on  earth  will  be  to  comfort  you 
in  a  loss  that  I  feel  can  scarcely  be  repaired.  But  God's 
ways  are  not  our  ways,  He  will  never  forsake  those  who 
seek  after  Him  j  He  can  raise  up  friends  when  they 
think  not  of  it,  and  when  the  poor  and  needy  seek  water 
He  will  hear  them,  and  give  them  the  fountains  of  Life." 

Last  Letter  of  Julius  to  Augustus. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  Feb.  24,  1833.  —  Dearest,  dearest 
Augustus,  '  Shall  I  ever  see  you  again  ? '  You  say  in 
your  holy  letter  from  Genoa,  '  Beware  of  being  too  hope- 
ful till  we  have  been  at  least  a  month  in  Rome.'  Have 
I  then  been  too  hopeful  ?  Is  it  not  to  be  ?  Am  I  never 
to  see  you  again  ?  God's  will  be  done.  How  great  has 
his  goodness  been  to  me,  in  giving  me  such  a  brother 
as  you  have  been,  in  allowing  us  to  live  together  with 
such  perfect  love  for  each  other,  such  perfect  confidence 
in  each  other,  as  we  have  done  for  the  last  twenty  years ! 


FROM   SUNSHINE    INTO   SHADE.  221 

My  thoughts  during  these  last  days  have  been  wander- 
ing over  the  whole  of  that  period,  and  I  have  been 
thinking  of  every  thing  that  you  have  been  to  me,  and 
done  for  me,  and  said  to  me ;  and  while  I  remembered 
numberless  marks  of  the  sincerest  and  most  generous 
affection,  I  cannot  call  to  mind  one  single  instance  in 
which  you  ever  allowed  yourself  even  to  utter  a  hasty 
word  at  variance  with  it.  Alas !  how  different  has  my 
conduct  to  you  been.  Never  have  you  caused  me  a 
moment's  pain,  unless  it  was  for  my  good ;  and  even 
then  you  have  endeavored  to  soften  the  pain  as  much  as 
you  could.  Of  a  truth  your  love  for  me  has  been  '  won- 
derful, passing  the  love  of  women.'  And  what  do  I  owe 
you  ?  that  I  am  where  I  am ;  that  I  have  the  means,  so 
far  as  they  can  be  bestowed  by  another,  of  enjoying 
every  earthly  happiness  ;  that  I  am  placed  in  a  situation 
where  the  faithful  discharge  of  my  duty  to  Christ  is  be- 
come likewise  my  great  earthly  duty.  Nor  is  this  more 
than  a  part,  a  small  part,  of  what  I  owe  you.  Yet  I 
wished,  fervently  wished,  to  make  this  debt  still  greater, 
among  other  things  by  learning  from  your  example  how 
to  walk  in  the  path  where  you  have  set  me. 

"  How  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  walk  there  by  myself  ? 
It  seems  to  have  been  by  a  kind  of  prophetic  instinct 
that  I  was  so  anxious  about  your  coming  here  before  you 
left  England.  Alas !  that  I  should  have  to  live  in  a 
house  which  has  never  been  blest  by  your  presence. 
There  has  been  that  sympathy  between  our  hearts  and 
minds  that  for  so  many  years,  whenever  I  have  heard  a 
beautiful  thought  or  story,  or  seen  any  beautiful  object, 
one  of  my  first  thoughts  has  always  been,  how  Augustus 
would  like  it !  and  this  bred  the  wish  to  tell  you  of  it, 
or  to  show  it  you.     Until   I  had  done  this,  my  own 


222  RECORDS    OF    A   QUIET   LIFE. 

enjoyment  seemed  but  half  complete.  And  now  what 
is  the  worth  of  all  the  beautiful  objects  by  which  I  am 
surrounded  if  you  are  never  to  see  them?  I  wanted  to 
see  you  in  my  pew,  too,  which  now  will  ever  remain 
empty :  I  wanted  to  see  you,  to  hear  you,  in  my  pulpit. 
We  were  to  have  set  up  a  coach  between  Alton  and 
Hurstmonceaux.  I  have  often  amused'  myself  with 
writing  imaginary  letters  '  from  the  rector  of  Hurstmon- 
ceaux to  the  rector  of  Alton,  greeting.'  And  now  is  all 
the  future  to  be  a  blank  ?  Not  quite,  my  Augustus  !  As 
our  heavenly-minded  comforter  —  our  dear  Lucy  —  says 
most  truly,  '  I  shall  be  more  blest  in  walking  through 
the  rest  of  life  with  the  memory  of  such  a  brother,  than 
most  persons  are  in  the  possession  of  living  ones.'  Oh 
that  that  memory  may  prove  a  lively  motive  to  me  to 
walk  worthily  of  it.  I  am  so  weak,  I  want  human 
motives,  I  want  human  counsel  and  help.  But  that  is 
to  be  taken  from  me.  Pray  for  me  before  you  go,  pray 
that  I  may  become  worthy  of  meeting  you  again  here- 
after. I  am  writing  despondingly,  Augustus,  but  not  as 
as  I  wrote  on  Christmas  Day.  I  am  grown  much  calmer, 
more  resigned  to  the  blow  that  appears  to  threaten  us : 
I  can  bless  God  for  the  inestimable  blessing  he  Has  given 
us,  which  will  continue  an  inestimable  blessing  even 
after  He  has  taken  it  away.  But  still  I  cannot  help  feel- 
ing that  the  loss  will  be  the  greatest  that  can  ever  befall 
me,  that  the  pain  will  be  the  bitterest.  Will  it  befall 
me  ?  Oh,  what  a  blessing  it  would  be  if  you  were  to  be 
given  back  to  us,  snatched  out  of  the  very  jaws  of  death 
by  Him  who  is  the  lord  over  death !  But  Maria  and 
Lucy's  two  letters  show  me  that  the  danger  is  great,  that 
there  is  more  ground  for  fear  than  hope.  They  reached 
me  yesterday  and  the  Sunday  before :  indeed,  most  of 


FROM    SUNSHINE    INTO   SHADE.  223 

your  letters  since  you  have  been  abroad  have  arrived  on 
a  Sunday ;  Elphick  usually  brings  them  to  the  vestry 
after  morning  service,  and  I  read  them  on  my  way  home. 
Of  the  former,  which  reawakened  my  fears  after  the 
account  of  your  recovery  at  Genoa  and  of  your  journey 
to  Pisa  and  Rome  had  made  me  perhaps  unwarrantably 
sanguine,  I  seemed  to  have  a  kind  of  second-sight  while 
I  was  preaching.  My  sermon  had  been  an  admirable 
one  of  Arnold's,  from  whom  I  often  take  my  morning 
sermon ;  they  are  so  full  of  sense  and  sincerity,  so 
devoid  of  every  thing  like  pulpit  conventional  slang,  you 
see  he  means  every  word  that  he  says,  they  only  seem 
to  me  to  want  to  be  made  rather  more  rhetorical  in 
manner.  That  was  on  the  text,  '  The  Egyptians,  whom 
ye  have  seen  to-day,  ye  shall  see  no  more  for  ever.'  In 
the  latter  part,  after  speaking  of  the  vain  hopes  with 
which  people  comfort  themselves  in  speaking  of  their 
departed  relations,  he  adds :  *  But  there  are  others  — 
and  happy  are  those  who  have  many  such  among  their 
friends  and  relations  —  in  whom  the  heavenward  bent 
of  their  minds,  and  the  heavenly  character  of  their 
actions,  is  visible  while  they  are  here  below,  whom  we 
have  seen  in  their  youth  and  health  treading  firmly  and 
steadily  in  that  path  which,  when  they  are  gone,  we  may 
say  and  feel  assured,  has  brought  them  to  their  eternal 
rest.  For  such  there  can  be  no  uneasiness ;  nor  can 
the  boldest  hope  half  come  up  to  those  unutterable  joys 
with  which  their  Master  now  blesses  them/  I  know 
not  how,  when  writing  this  over,  it  did  not  strike  me 
how  singularly  I  was  one  of  those  happy  persons.  But 
in  the  pulpit  this  rose  up  before  me  so  forcibly,  and  I 
saw  such  a  bright  vision  of  my  Augustus  in  bliss,  that 
for  a  few  moments  I  quite  forgot  my  audience,  and, 


224  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

when  I  opened  the  letter  from  Rome,  I  found  that  the 
fulfilment  of  my  vision  might  perhaps  be  much  nearer 
than  I  had  anticipated.  Among  other  things  I  have 
been  thinking  what  memorial  I  should  like  to  have  of 
you.  Will  you  leave  me  your  Sacrament  cup,  that  which 
you  carry  about  to  the  cottages  ?  so  may  I,  when  I  am 
carrying  it  for  the  same  purpose,  be  strengthened  by  the 
recollection  of  him  who  bore  it  before  me.  God  bless 
you,  and,  if  it  may  be,  restore  you  to  us  ;  if  not,  may  He 
render  your  passage  into  happiness  as  easy  as  possible. 
God  bless  you,  dear,  dear  Augustus,  I  cannot  give  up 
all  hope  of  seeing  you  again.  Were  Sterling  in  orders 
you  would  see  me  at  Rome,  and  even  as  it  is,  if  I  can 
manage  it,  I  shall  set  off  to  spend  a  couple  of  days  with 
you.  You  need  not  my  assurance  that  I  will  always 
cherish  your  Maria  as  a  dear  beloved  sister,  beloved  for 
her  own  sake,  and  still  more  so  for  yours.  Again,  God 
bless  you !  How  can  I  bring  myself  to  say,  when  it 
may  perchance  be  for  the  last  time,  God  bless  you ! " 

Maria  Hare's  Journal. 

"March  5.  —  Bunsen  called.  The  last  time  he  was 
here  my  Augustus  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  able  to  talk  to 
him,  and  ask  him  questions.  He  showed,  as  I  knew  he 
would,  the  deepest  sympathy  with  my  grief,  and  seemed 
so  deeply  touched  with  my  ■  allowing '  him  to  come,  one 
might  have  thought  he  was  to  be  the  gainer.  .  .  .  After 
some  other  conversation,  I  asked  what  he  thought  about 
the  abode  of  the  spirit  when  it  leaves  the  body.  '  We 
must  keep  to  what  God's  word  says,  —  it  is  never  safe 
in  these  matters  to  leave  it.  Our  Saviour  said,  "  To-day 
shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise."  And  we  are  else- 
where told  the  souls  of  the  faithful  shall  be  with  God  ; 


FROM   SUNSHINE    INTO    SHADE.  225 

so  that  we  may  safely  conclude  them  to  be  in  bliss, 
though  the  full  consummation  of  that  bliss  is  reserved 
to  the  end  when  God  shall  be  all  in  all.  Your  Church, 
as  I  think,  beautifully  prays  for  the  accomplishment  of 
the  number  of  the  elect,  and  I  have  introduced  it  into 
our  service.  What  may  be  the  nature  of  their  employ- 
ment there,  we  have  no  means  of  knowing  ;  and  fully 
do  I  believe  that  it  is  in  mercy  that  God  has  not  vouch- 
safed to  reveal  more,  as  it  is  in  mercy  that  He  has 
revealed  so  much.  He  but  lifts  up  the  veil  so  high  as 
to  encourage  us  on,  — what  more  is  to  be  known  will  be 
hereafter.  We  may  be  sure  there  is  spiritual  activity 
in  heaven,  —  there  can  be  no  idleness  there  ;  and  what 
will  be  the  joy  of  those  eternal  praises  sung  to  God  by 
the  saints  in  glory ! '  I  am  not  sure  of  the  last  few 
words,  but  it  was  to  this  effect.  Speaking  of  a  hymn 
used  by  Hugo  Grotius  on  his  death-bed,  and  of  the 
superiority  of  the  ancient  compositions  over  the  modern 
ones,  —  '  They  were  written  by  persons  who  had  endured 
great  afflictions,  who  had  lived  in  perilous  times  :  it  does 
very  well  in  prosperity  and  happiness  to  go  on  with  lower 
views,  but  in  fear  of  death  and  in  suffering  there  is  but 
one  rock  to  stay  on,  the  merits  and  love  of  Christ.'  He 
seemed  pleased  that  I  had  begun  to  go  out  again.  '  I  have 
always  found  in  affliction  that  the  works  of  God  are  the 
most  soothing  of  all ;  and  here  in  Rome  you  may  be  so 
much  alone.  The  word  of  God  and  prayer  are  the  first 
things  no  doubt,  but,  next  to  those,  his  works  are  the 
best  comforters  we  can  have.'  Then  he  spoke  of  the  first 
bursting  forth  of  spring :  '  It  is  the  revival  of  all  things, 
—  a  type  of  the  revival  of  the  spirit  after  death.'  He 
rejoiced  that  Augustus  was  laid  beside  his  own  two  dear 
children.  There  was  not  a  word  that  did  not  speak 
10*  o 


226  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE.  ' 

the  meek,  humble,  and  loving  Christian,  and  never  did 
I  talk  with  one  who  I  could  feel  was  capable  of  deeper 
sympathy." 

While  the  shadow  of  death  was  resting  upon 
the  upper  chapter  of  the  Via  S.  Sebastianello,  and 
the  widow  of  Augustus  seemed  in  spirit  to  have 
followed  him  into  the  unseen,  his  eldest  brother 
Francis  was  established  with  his  family  in  the  Villa 
Strozzi,  a  solitary  house  standing  in  an  old-fash- 
ioned garden  decorated  with  grottoes  and  sumach- 
trees,  just  on  the  edge  of  the  Viminal,  where  the 
Negroni  gardens  break  away  to  the  slopes  of 
the  Esquiline.  Francis  Hare  had  for  so  many 
years  lived  entirely  abroad,  that  he  had  adopted 
all  the  habits  of  foreign  life.  Familiarly  ac- 
quainted with  every  variety  of  Italian  dialect, 
and  deeply  versed  in  classical  learning,  the  his- 
tory and  literature  of  Italy  were  as  familiar  to 
him  as  his  own.  He  was  eagerly  sought  as  a 
cicerone  and  adviser  by  visitors  to  Rome,  but  his 
own  preference  was  for  Italian  society,  of  which  he 
always  saw  the  most  interesting  and  the  best.  He 
had  already  three  children,  —  a  fourth  was  born  on 
the  13th  of  March  succeeding  his  brother's  death, 
from  whom  it  was  desired  that  he  should  inherit 
the  name  of  Augustus,  while  his  widowed  aunt  was 
invited  to  become  his  god-mother. 

Julius  to  Francis  Hare. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  March  6,  1834.  —  It  is  very,  very 
long  since  I  wrote  to  you.     I  began  a  letter  to  you  in- 


FROM   SUNSHINE    INTO    SHADE.  227 

deed  this  day  two  months,  but  I  could  not  finish  it. 
All  other  feelings  of  late  have  been  swallowed  up  in 
anxiety  about  Augustus,  and  I  have  scarcely  written  to 
any  one  except  about  him,  and  to  those  who  could  give 
me  the  most  accurate  details.  To-day,  however,  when 
I  have  learnt  that  we  have  lost  him  forever  in  this 
world,  I  feel  a  longing  to  tighten  the  tie  with  those 
brothers  who  are  still  left  to  me  j  and  while  I  have  been 
thinking  over  all  I  had,  and  all  I  have  lost,  in  him,  I 
have  also  called  to  mind  what  I  still  have  in  my  other 
brothers.  How  much,  dearest  Francis,  do  I  owe  to  you. 
How  much  have  I  owed  you  ever  since  my  earliest 
years.  How  patient  you  were  with  me  ;  how  indulgent ; 
what  pains  you  took  with  me ;  how  you  gave  up  your 
time  to  me  !  What  unvarying,  unmerited  kindness  have 
you  shown  me  all  my  life  long.  And  though  we  have 
been  so  much  separated  by  circumstances  of  late  years, 
and  though  my  negligence  has  often  let  a  very  long 
period  pass  without  any  communication  between  us,  the 
fault  has  been  entirely  on  my  side,  and  I  found  last 
year  at  Naples  that  your  affection  was  still  as  strong  as 
ever.  Such,  indeed,  has  always  been  my  situation,  that 
I  have  constantly  been  the  receiver  of  kindnesses  from 
all  my  brothers,  and  have  hardly  ever  been  able  to  do 
any  thing  in  return.  I  can  merely  acknowledge  and  feel 
grateful  for  them.  And  to-day  has  re-enlivened  my 
gratitude  to  you,  and  makes  me  anxious  to  assure  you 
that  all  your  goodness  has  not  been  thrown  away  on 
one  who  is  utterly  unmindful  of  it.  I  want,  too,  to 
thank  you  for  all  your  kindness  and  attention  to  Augus- 
tus. Alas,  that  I  could  do  nothing  for  him  !  But  you 
and  Marcus  have  fulfilled  my  share  of  his  nursing  as 
well  as  your  own,  and  nothing  in  this  respect  seems  to 


228  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET    LIFE. 

have  been  wanting.  Still  I  can  hardly  bring  myself  to 
believe  that  our  brotherhood  has  lost  its  heavenliest 
flower.  It  seemed  to  be  such  an  essential  part  of  one's 
self.  I  could  never  conceive  myself  as  living  without 
my  three  brothers,  and  almost  fancied  that  time  could 
have  no  power  over  a  bond  so  strong  in  affection.  God 
grant  that  the  same  bond  which  has  existed  here  on 
earth,  and  which  has  now  begun  to  dissolve,  may 
hereafter  be  united  again  in  still  stronger  affection  in 
heaven ! " 

Maria  Hare's  Journal. 

"April  10.  —  Mrs.  Bunsen  spoke  of  some  German 
writer,  Schelling,  I  think,  who  said  that  everyone  in  the 
course  of  life  is  called  upon,  like  Abraham,  to  sacrifice 
his  Isaac.  She  spoke  of  how  often  men  of  genius  forget 
to  choose  a  friend  in  their  wife  —  how  often  the  man  was 
consequently  vulgarized,  degraded,  by  his  marriage  — 
how  difficult  in  society  it  is  for  a  man  to  understand 
what  a  woman  really  is.  Her  last  words  to  me  were,  — 
*  The  hand  of  God  has  touched  you,  the  same  hand  can 
heal  you.' 

"April  ii.  —  St.  Peter's:  my  last  view.  On  earth 
God  has  no  temple  like  this,  and  yet  in  every  believer's 
heart  is  a  truer,  a  more  living  temple  to  his  glory.  May 
mine  become  so  !  —  may  the  prayer  breathed  in  that  glo- 
rious House  of  Prayer  be  heard  and  answered,  and 
Rome,  dear  Rome,  the  scene  of  saddest  sorrow,  be  the 
foundation  of  deep  joy  and  everlasting  gladness,  in  that 
lively  hope  here  vouchsafed  of  an  inheritance  in  the 
heavenly  city,  where,  with  my  beloved  Augustus,  there 
will  be  no  more  sorrow  or  weeping,  but  where  we  shall 
enjoy  together  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God." 


FROM    SUNSHINE    INTO    SHADE.  229 

Maria  Hare,  Note-Book  (in  travelling). 

"  When  we  compare  Christians  of  this  day  with  those 
of  the  first  ages  of  Christianity,  their  meagre  and  blighted 
feelings  and  half-grown  fruits  are  as  the  foliage,  flowers 
and  fruits  of  England  compared  with  those  of  Italy. 
They  have  all  the  same  root,  but  those  of  Italy  are  rich 
and  full  and  perfect  in  their  beauty,  those  of  England 
look  as  if  withered  by  want  of  sun  -to  ripen  and  perfect 
them.  We  seem  to  shrink  from  being  too  perfect,  and  to 
be  afraid  of  appropriating  to  ourselves  all  the  fulness 
of  apostolic  joy,  —  else  why  do  not  the  same  truth,  the 
same  words,  send  us  on  our  way  rejoicing  with  gladness 
and  singleness  of  heart  ? " 

"  In  searching  into  the  hidden  things  of  God  how  we 
forget  that  we  know  in  part." 

'"One  difference  between  God's  word  and  man's  is, 
that  while  we  may  reach  the  highest  standard  set  before 
us  by  the  one,  we  find  the  more  we  advance  towards  the 
other,  the  more  it  seems  to  pass  on  before  us  and  rise 
above  our  utmost  efforts." 

"  Men  of  the  world  often  like  to  talk  of  Religion  and 
Christianity ;  the  man  of  God  delights  to  talk  of  God 
and  Christ." 

"  There  is  a  one-sided  view  in  religion,  as  in  every 
thing  else,  and  those  who  dwell  solely  on  the  one-half 
of  the  Bible  and  leave  the  other  untouched  must  fall 
into  the  errors  either  of  Antinomianism  or  Legality.  The 
truth  is  a  whole  perfect  in  all  its  parts,  and  only  to  be 
found  in  all  its  fulness  in  God's  word  taken  as  a  whole,  and 
not  one  part  disjointed  from  the  rest.  If  by  Antinomian- 
ism is  meant  a  belief  in  Christ  uninfluencing  the  life,  many 


23O  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

of  those  who  use  the  term  in  abuse  of  others  are  entitled  to 
it.  What  can  be  nearer  to  it  than  the  profession  made  of 
resting  on  a  Saviour's  merits  by  those  who  never  by  act, 
word,  or  thought  show  love  to  that  Saviour,  and  who  rest 
satisfied  with  the  form  of  godliness  without  the  power  ?y 

"  The  Gospels  are  first  instruments  in  convincing  a 
man  of  sin  by  showing  him  all  the  breadth  and  spiritu- 
ality of  Christ's  law.  The  sinner  who  is  by  them  awak- 
ened to  his  own  shortcomings  in  holiness  by  looking  at 
Christ's  model  then  comes  to  St.  Paul,  and  learns  from 
him  where  to  find  relief  j  and  having  through  faith  in  a 
crucified  Saviour  and  access  to  the  Father  through  Christ 
found  peace,  he  then  returns  to  the  Gospels,  and  finds 
them  lit  up  by  a  new  light,  that  shines  more  and  more 
unto  the  perfect  day." 

"  How  true  it  is  of  the  renewed  mind,  that  it  finds 
'  Sermons  in  stones  and  good  in  every  thing.' " 

"  There  is  only  one  kind  of  hatred  the  fruit  of  which 
is  peace,  —  the  hatred  of  self." 

"The  eastern  imagery  of  the  Bible  is  the  dress  in 
which  the  essential  Truth  is  wrapped  up  ;  it  is  peculiar 
to  the  language  of  the  country  whence  it  came,  but  the 
feeling  it  expresses  is  universal,  and  quite  as  fully  shared 
by  every  spiritually  minded  believer  now  as  it  was  in  the 
days  of  David  or  Isaiah." 

The  travellers  crossed  the  Mont  St.  Gothard  on 
mules,  —  a  terribly  fatiguing  and  anxious  journey 
through  the  deep  snow,  one  of  their  carriages,  as 
they  followed  them,  being  overturned  three  times, 
and  the  other  twice,  on  the  way. 


FROM   SUNSHINE   INTO    SHADE.  23 1 

Maria  Hare  to  Catharine  Stanley. 

"Zurich,  May  15. —  The  St.  Gothard  was  indeed  an 
anxious  journey,  but  I  went  on,  only  feeling  thankful- 
ness all  the  way  that  we  had  not  attempted  crossing  the 
Alps  last  winter,  and  thinking  what  misery  it  would  have 
been  to  me  were  he  with  me  now,  even  in  improved 
health.  .  .  .  The  sublimity  and  grandeur  of  the  moun- 
tain scenery,  though  lifting  one  up  indeed  above  this 
world,  was  lifting  one  up  to  a  God  of  power  and  maj- 
esty, not  of  love,  and  gave  me  a  deep  and  painfully  op- 
pressive feeling  very  unlike  the  soothing  effect  of  Italian 
beauty.  Yesterday  I  felt  it  was  quite  a  relief  to  look 
only  on  green  pastures  and  green  hills  as  we  came  here, 
although  some  parts  of  the  road  were  too  like  England 
not  to  pain  me  in  another  way.  I  miss  the  sky  of  Italy 
greatly,  and  that  peculiar  beauty  every  thing  has  there, 
but  the  domestic  character  of  the  villages  and  people 
and  quiet  bonhommie  of  their  manners  are  much  more 
congenial  than  the  godless,  noisy  Italians.  You  may 
imagine  how  in  seeing  some  of  the  places  again  I  have 
been  carried  back  to  what  seems  like  the  beginning  of 
life,  so  entirely  does  my  real  life  seem  to  have  been  com- 
prised in  these  sixteen  years  since  I  last  saw  them.  All 
re  se  up  before  me,  and,  except  in  my  admiration  of  the 
scenery,  I  hardly  felt  as  if  my  present  identity  were  the 
same  ;  and  how  predominant  was  the  feeling  of  thank- 
fulness, how  strong  the  conviction  of  the  mercy  and  love 
that  had  even  through  many  sorrows  been  with  me 
throughout :  the  great  happiness  that  has  been  granted 
to  me,  and  now,  when  that  is  taken  away  for  ever,  the 
inward  peace  and  comfort  which  can  make  me  really 
enjoy  every  blessing  left  to  me  with  double  the  feeling  I 
then  had.     It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  was  then  so  completely 


232  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

at  the  mercy  of  every  passing  event  and  circumstance  of 
life,  as  if  now  I  had  an  anchor  of  hope  so  sure  and  firm 
to  rest  on,  that,  let  what  winds  will  blow,  I  still  must 
weather  all.  Oh !  I  trust  and  hope  I  shall  keep  firmly 
to  that  confidence,  but  I  feel  as  if  there  would  be  quite 
a  new  and  different  trial  of  my  faith  when  I  have  to  act 
and  not  to  think,  and  when  the  reality  of  this  life  and 
all  its  present  interests  comes  more  strongly  before  me. 
And  then  in  my  loss  it  is  not  as  in  minor  ones,  where 
the  first  shock  is  the  great  suffering,  and  every  day 
that  succeeds  softens  and  lessens  it ;  with  me  every  day 
seems  to  add  and  make  it  grow  larger,  and  the  resigna- 
tion of  yesterday  does  not  supply  to-day's  need.  The 
daily  burden  needs  daily  fresh  strength  and  fresh  help 
to  meet  it,  and  were  that  to  be  omitted  would  become 
too  heavy  to  bear.  I  feel  so  strongly  how  it  is  that 
affliction  when  yielded  to,  or  stoically  submitted  to,  fails 
in  its  effect  as  a  corrective,  —  how  entirely  the  cross  to 
one's  self-will  is  the  bringing  one's  heart  to  receive  it 
without  a  murmur." 

The  thought  of  the  Hurstmonceaux  home,  which 
Julius  dwelt  upon  for  her,  was  indeed  that  which 
brought  most  consolation  to  his  widowed  sister-in- 
law  as  she  drew  near  England.  She  crossed  from 
Ostend  with  the  Marcus  Hares,  and,  landing  at 
Broadstairs,  went  first  to  her  brother's  house  at 
East  Sheen,  whither  her  father,  Mrs.  Oswald  Ley- 
cester,  and  Mrs.  Stanley  had  come  to  meet  her. 
There  also  she  first  saw  Julius,  who  had  already 
written. 

"  God  be  praised,  dearest  Maria,  that  you  are  arrived 
safe  in  your  own,  your  Augustus's  country !     May  He 


FROM    SUNSHINE    INTO   SHADE.  233 

support  you  through  all  the  trials  that  await  you  in  the 
course  of  the  next  month.  Why  is  it  that  a  meeting 
with  those  whom  we  love,  after  a  time  of  bitter  affliction, 
is  so  painful,  when  a  stranger  produces  no  sort  of  emo- 
tion ?  /  Is  it  that  they  arouse  us  out  of  our  torpor,  and 
by  awakening  the  heart  make  it  feel  that  its  fountain  is 
dried  up  ?  I  long  to  have  you  safe  lodged  at  Hurstmon- 
ceaux.     Till  then  you  will  have  no  calm,  no  repose." 

After  Mrs.  Hare  had  passed  a  week  with  her 
family,  her  sister  went  with  her  to  Alton,  where 
the  three  weeks  which  alone  were  permitted  them 
passed  all  too  quickly  in  sad  partings  and  prepa- 
rations. 

In  after  years  Mrs.  Stanley  often  described  the 
arrival  at  Alton,  —  how  at  first  her  sister  lay  for 
some  time  upon  the  sofa  without  daring  to  open 
her  eyes  to  look  round  ;  then  she  asked  her  to  read 
the  1 1 6th  Psalm,  and  in  a  short  time  said,  "Now  I 
am  quite  easy."  After  the  first  two  or  three  days 
she  gradually  went  about  to  some  of  the  people 
every  day,  and  was  greatly  comforted  by  the  cheer- 
ful, simple  way  in  which  they  bid  her  look  forward 
to  another  world.  All  the  cottagers  in  the  parish 
subscribed  to  put  up  a  monument  of  affectionate 
and  grateful  remembrance  in  the  church ;  every 
one  put  on  black  ;  those  who  had  nothing  else  put 
black  strings  to  their  caps. 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

"Alton,  June  28,  1834.  —  If  my  dearest  Luce  could 
have  seen  me  half  an  ],our  ago  seated  between  the  two 


234  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

dear  old  men,  William  Perry  and  William  King,  she 
would  have  felt  her  brightest  anticipations  of  my  return 
to  Alton  realized.  I  could  feel  nothing  but  joy  as  I 
talked  with  them,  and  received  their  simple  comfort, 
1  He  will  never  come  to  we  no  more,  but  we  may  go  to 
he  ;  and  through  the  blessed  Saviour  we  shall  all  meet, 
where  there  will  be  no  more  sorrow.'  So  they  left  me 
with  these  words,  after  a  conversation  in  which  their 
thankfulness  for  all  their  trials,  their  simple  trust  in 
God's  mercy,  and  the  hope  of  rest  to  come,  made  one 
forget  this  world  was  one  of  suffering  in  looking  on  to 
the  one  to  come.  Truly,  such  comforters  as  these  do 
one's  heart  good.  How  I  do  thank  and  bless  my  God 
that  He  strengthened  me  to  come  here.  Every  day 
brings  with  it  such  testimonies  of  affection  and  gratitude 
as  are  most  precious ;  and  in  the  two  cottages  I  have 
been  in  this  morning  the  change  and  growth  I  find 
is  most  delightful,  —  thankfulness  and  content  where 
there  was  murmuring,  conviction  of  sin,  and  longing 
after  righteousness,  where  there  was  indifference  \  but 
it  does  seem,  indeed,  as  if  God  had  been  sending  a 
great  increase  upon  both  these  parishes.  Though  it  is 
now  harvest-time,  and  in  all  other  places  the  evening  lect- 
ures are  given  up,  they  cling  so  here  to  Mr.  Kilvert's  last 
words,  that  he  has  a  full  attendance  in  the  church  every 
Wednesday  evening.  Yesterday  I  saw  Mr.  Majendie, 
who  was  touched  as  if  he  was  a  brother  with  the  sense 
of  his  own  loss,  and  it  seems  he  has  been  quite  over- 
whelmed whenever  he  has  come  over  to  this  church." 

"  June  29,  Sunday  Evening.  —  You  know  I  never 
hoped  to  have  been  able  to  go  to  church  at  all  here  ; 
but  this  morning  I  felt  as  if  I  could  do  it,  —  my  heart 
did  long  after  '  the  courts  of  my  God,'  —  I  thirsted  after 


FROM   SUNSHINE   INTO   SHADE.  235 

that  comfort  I  had  been  so  long  deprived  of,  and  I  re- 
solved to  go.  I  went  before  the  people  were  all  in,  so 
got  a  little  accustomed  to  the  seat  before  service  began. 
And  then,  though  sad,  very  sad  recollections  did  come 
over  me  at  times,  and  the  singing  brought  many  tears, 
they  were  soft  and  gentle  tears,  and  great  was  the  peace 
and  comfort  given  by  the  appropriate  words  of  the  differ- 
ent hymns  Mr.  Kilvert  had  chosen.  Then  the  sermon, 
or  rather  —  for  it  was  from  the  desk  —  the  exposition,  of 
the  words  in  John  xiii.,  '  What  I  do  thou  knowest  not 
now,  but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter,'  were,  indeed,  fitted 
to  calm  a  troubled  mind.  Oh,  how  I  wish  you  could 
have  heard  him.  He  dwelt  on  St.  Peter's  Day,  brought 
all  the  passages  of  his  life  forward  with  practical  appli- 
cation to  every  different  state  of  mind,  urging  those 
who  had  faith  and  love  to  remember  it  was  not  a  little 
faith  we  must  rest  content  with  \  those  who  had  not  that 
little  to  seek  for  it,  and  not  look  on  it  as  a  wonder,  a 
mystery  only ;  and  warning  the  ungodly  of  the  awaken- 
ing that  must  come.  But  the  chief,  the  most  touching 
part,  was  quite  addressed  to  me,  showing  how  the  trials 
which  we  are  now  exercised  with,  would  hereafter  be 
clear  to  us  in  all  their  mercy  and  goodness,  bringing 
various  Scripture  passages  of  waiting  on  the  Lord  in 
patience,  and  the  example  of  the  prophets,  martyrs,  and, 
lastly,  at  some  length,  of  our  great  High  Priest  himself 
and  his  sufferings,  so  that  we  might  count  our  present 
trials  small  in  comparison  with  theirs.  Then  urging  in 
the  most  practical  way,  as  the  only  weapon,  prayer,  — 
prayer,  the  health  of  the  soul.  I  do  so  rejoice  I  went, 
because,  having  had  the  first  pain  over,  I  can  now  go 
again,  and  it  is  such  a  refreshment.  I  never  once 
looked  up,  so  I  did  not  see  anybody  there,  and  when  I 


236  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

did  think  of  him  who  so  loved  that  house  of  prayer,  it 
was  only  to  feel  that  his  Sabbath  is  an  eternal  one,  his 
worship  freed  from  weariness  of  body  or  of  mind,  and 
that  he  was  rejoicing  in  the  same  Saviour  whose  presence 
was  cheering  me." 

One  subject  which  occupied  Augustus  Hare's 
widow  during  her  short  stay  in  her  old  home  was 
sending  to  their  destinations  the  different  letters 
which  he  had  dictated,  and  which  she  had  hurriedly 
written  down  beside  his  death-bed.  Among  these 
was  the  following :  — 
Augustus  W.  Hare  to  Lady  Blessington. 

"'Rome,  but  from  a  Roman  death-bed.  —  Pray,  dear 
Lady  Blessington,  accept  the  accompanying  volume  of 
sermons,  and  for  God's  sake  preserve  them,  and  read 
them  as  the  words  of  a  dying  man.  It  is  now  above  two 
months  that  I  have  been  looking  death  in  the  face,  and 
every  hour  of  that  time  has  made  me  feel  more  and  more 
that  Christianity  is  the  great  remedial  measure  ;  but  for 
Christ  I  could  not  have  borne  to  have  had  the  great 
moral  eye  of  God's  justice  fixed  on  me.  If  there  are 
any  things  in  the  volume  which  seem  strange  to  you, 
do  not  throw  them  aside  without  considering  whether, 
though  strange,  they  may  not  be  true.  Oh,  Lady  Bless- 
ington, if  you  knew  how  much  I  wish  I  could  hope  I  was 
sure  of  meeting  you  in  the  place  to  which  God  is  taking 
me.     Can  I  hope  this  ? 

"  Yours  most  gratefully, 

"Augustus  W.  Hare." 

The  little  monument  which  was  erected  to  Au- 
gustus Hare  by  his  poor  friends  at  Alton  bore  the 
inscription :  — 


FROM   SUNSHINE   INTO   SHADE.  237 

"Sacred  to  the  memory  of  the  Rev.  Augustus  W.  Hare,  M.A., 
sometime  Fellow  of  New  College,  Oxford,  and  Rector  for  five 
years  of  this  Parish,  who,  having  gone  to  Italy  for  the  restoration 
of  his  health,  died  at  Rome,  Feb.  18,  1834,  aged  41. 

"The  Parishioners  of  Alton-Barnes  and  Alton-Priors,  sorrowing 
deeply  for  his  loss,  have  placed  this  tablet  in  thankfulness  to  God 
who  gave  and  spared  him  to  them  a  little  while,  and  in  affection- 
ate remembrance  of  the  love  wherewith  he  loved  and  tended  the 
flock  of  Christ  committed  to  his  charge." 


The  monument  which  the  four  brothers  had  al- 
ready arranged  to  erect  in  Hurstmonceaux  Church, 
with  a  bas-relief  representing  their  mother's  death, 
by  Kessels,  was  now  placed  there,  in  the  chancel. 

With  the  church  which  held  this  memorial,  with 
the  parish  in  which  so  many  of  the  earlier  genera- 
tions of  his  family  had  their  home,  the  life  of 
Augustus  Hare's  widow  was  henceforward  to  be 
connected.  Most  tenderly,  with  the  most  reveren- 
tial love,  was  she  welcomed  to  the  home  and  heart 
of  Julius,  with  whom,  more  than  any  other,  she 
could  hold  constant  communion  concerning  him 
whose  invisible  presence  and  influence  were  equally 
felt  by  both,  —  him  of  whom  Julius  wrote  :  — 

"  He  is  gone.  But  is  he  lost  to  me  ?  Oh,  no  !  He 
whose  heart  was  ever  pouring  forth  a  stream  of  love,  the 
purity  and  inexhaustibleness  of  which  betokened  its 
heavenly  origin,  as  he  was  ever  striving  to  lift  me  above 
myself,  he  is  still  at  my  side  pointing  my  gaze  upward. 
Only  the  love,  which  was  then  hidden  within  him,  has 
now  overflowed  and  transfigured  his  whole  being ;  and 
his  earthly  form  is  turned  into  that  of  an  angel  of  light. 


238  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Thou  takest  not  away,  O  Death ! 
Thou  strikest ;  absence  perisheth ; 

Indifference  is  no  more. 
The  future  brightens  on  the  sight ; 
For  on  the  past  has  fallen  a  light, 

That  tempts  us  to  adore." 


XIII. 

HURSTMONCEAUX  RECTORY. 

"  Nothing  is  lost  that  is  loved  in  God,  since  in  Him  all 
things  are  saved  to  us."  —  S.  Bernardino  of  Siena. 

"  He  alone  never  loseth  what  is  dear  to  him,  to  whom  all 
things  are  dear  in  Him  who  is  never  lost."  —  St.  Augustine. 

TN  all  in  which  two  quiet  phases  of  life  can  be 
■*•  totally  different  from  each  other,  did  that  which 
was  opening  at  Hurstmonceaux  differ  from  that 
which  had  closed  at  Alton.  First,  there  was  the 
variety  of  outward  scene,  —  the  exchange  of  a 
limited  oasis  of  green  fields,  stranded  like  an  island 
in  the  great  Wiltshire  plain,  which,  though  filled 
with  waving  corn  in  summer,  was  but  a  ploughed 
desert  through  the  winter  months,  for  the  wooded 
uplands  of  Sussex,  the  richly  cultivated  fields,  and 
the  leafy  lanes  of  Hurstmonceaux,  —  the  wild  de- 
serted deer-park  with  its  ferny  glades,  its  stag- 
headed  chestnuts,  and  its  ruined  castle,  —  the  fine 
old  church  with  its  ancestral  associations,  and  the 
wide  view  over  a  campagna-like  level  which  repeats 
every  cloud  in  its  varying  fluctuations  of  light  and 
shadow,  to  the  sparkling  silver  line  of  sea.  Then, 
instead   of   the   farmhouse-like   rectory   in   which 


24O  RECORDS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

Augustus  had  lived,  the  home  of  Julius  was,  even 
externally,  quite  different  from  the  ordinary  type  of 
country  rectories,  but  rather  like  a  good  country 
house,  well  placed  in  grounds'  of  considerable  ex- 
tent. 

"  The  rectory,"  wrote  Arthur  Stanley,  "  stood  far 
removed  from  church,  and  castle;  and  village.  .  .  . 
Of  all  the  peculiarities  of  English  life,  none  perhaps 
is  so  unique  as  an  English  parsonage.  But  how 
peculiar  even  amongst  English  parsonages  was  the 
rectory  of  Hurstmonceaux.  The  very  first  glance 
at  the  entrance-hall  revealed  the  character  of  its 
master.  It  was  not  merely  a  house  with  a  good 
library,  —  the  whole  house  was  a  library.  The  vast 
nucleus  which  he  brought  with  him  from  Cam- 
bridge grew  year  by  year,  till  not  only  study,  and 
drawing-room,  and  dining-room,  but  passage,  and 
antechamber,  and  bedrooms  were  overrun  with  the 
ever-advancing  and  crowded  bookshelves.  At  the 
time  of  his  death  it  had  reached  the  number  of 
more  than  twelve  thousand  volumes  ;  and  it  must 
be  further  remembered  that  these  volumes  were  of 
no  ordinary  kind.  Of  all  libraries  which  it  has 
been  our  lot  to  traverse,  we  never  saw  any  equal 
to  this  in  the  combined  excellence  of  quantity  and 
quality ;  none  in  which  there  were  so  few  worth- 
less, so  many  valuable  works.  Its  original  basis 
was  classical,  and  philological ;  but  of  later  years 
the  historical,  philosophical,  and  theological  ele- 
ments outgrew  all  the  rest.  The  peculiarity  which 
distinguished   the    collection    probably   from    any 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  2/J.I 

other,  private  or  public,  in  the  kingdom,  was  the 
preponderance  of  German  literature.  No  work,  no 
pamphlet  of  any  note  in  the  teeming  catalogues  of 
German  booksellers,  escaped  his  notice ;  and  with 
his  knowledge  of  the  subjects,  and  of  the  probable 
elucidation  which  they  would  receive  from  this  or 
that  quarter,  they  formed  themselves  in  natural 
and  harmonious  groups  round  what  already  existed, 
so  as  to  give  to  the  library  both  the  appearance  and 
reality,  not  of  a  mere  accumulation  of  parts,  but  of 
an  organic  and  self-multiplying  whole.  And  what, 
perhaps,  was  yet  more  remarkable  was  the  manner 
in  which  the  centre  of  this  whole  was  himself. 
Without  a  catalogue,  without  assistance,  he  knew 
where  every  book  was  to  be  found,  for  what  it  was 
valuable,  what  relation  it  bore  to  the  rest.  The 
library  was  like  a  magnificent  tree  which  he  had 
himself  planted,  of  which  he  had  nurtured  the 
growth,  which  spread  its  branches  far  and  Wide 
over  his  dwelling,  and  in  the  shade  of  which  he 
delighted,  even  if  he  was  prevented  for  the  moment 
from  gathering  its  fruits,  or  pruning  its  luxuriant 
foliage. 

"  In  the  few  spaces  which  this  tapestry  of  litera- 
ture left  unoccupied  were  hung  the  noble  pictures 
which  he  had  brought  with  him  from  Italy.  To 
him  they  were  more  than  mere  works  of  art ;  they 
were  companions  and  guests  ;  and  they  were  the 
more  remarkable  from  their  contrast  with  the 
general  plainness  and  simplicity  of  the  house  and 
household,  so  unlike  the  usual  accompaniments  of 
11  p 


242  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

luxury  and  grandeur,  in  which  we  should  usually 
seek  and  find  works  of  such  costly  beauty. 

"In  this  home,  —  now  hard  at  work  with  his 
myriad  volumes  around  him  at  his  student's  desk, 
—  now  wandering  to  and  fro,  book  in  hand,  between 
the  various  rooms,  or  up  and  down  the  long  garden 
walk  overlooking  the  distant  Level  with  its  shifting 
lights  and  shades,  —  he  went  on  year  by  year  ex- 
tending the  range  and  superstructure  of  that  vast 
knowledge  of  which  the  solid  basis  had  been  laid  in 
the  classical  studies  of  his  beloved  university,  or 
correcting,  with  an  elaborate  minuteness  which  to 
the  bystanders  was  at  times  almost  wearisome  to 
behold,  the  long  succession  of  proofs  which,  during 
the  later  years  of  his  life,  were  hardly  ever  out  of 
his  hands."  * 

Great  also  was  the  change  from  the  quiet  life  of 
monotonous  seclusion,  only  rendered  interesting  by 
the  spirit  of  love  which  made  all  the  village  joys 
and  sorrows  her  own,  to  the  ever-varying  circle  of 
literary  interests  and  of  intellectual  society  by 
which  Julius  was  surrounded. 

But  most  of  all  was  the  change  great  to  Maria 
Hare  in  the  companion  of  her  daily  life,  from  the 
loving  character  of  Augustus,  who  was  equally 
gentle  with  all,  who  never  manifested  his  antipathy 
for  any  one,  however  distasteful  they  might  be,  — 
to  the  ardent,  impulsive,  enthusiastic,  demonstra- 
tive nature  of  Julius,  equally  manifest  in  love  or 
antipathy,  vehement  in  language,  unable  to  conceal 

*  Article  by  A.  P.  Stanley  in  the  Quarterly  Review,  cxciii. 


HURSTMONCEAUX   RECTORY.  243 

a  feeling  of  any  kind,  and  constantly  doing  battle 
of  some  sort  for  his  friends,  if  not  for  himself, — 
from  Augustus,  who  was  wholly  absorbed  in  his 
Master's  work,  and  who  lived  only  for  the  simple  vil- 
lagers by  whom  he  was  surrounded, —  to  Julius,  who 
mingled  so  many  other  interests  and  occupations 
with  his  parochial  and  ministerial  duties,  and  who 
was  personally  unknown  to  the  greater  proportion 
of  his  parishioners.  If  only  the  one  companion 
was  considered,  it  was  like  the  change  from  a 
moonlight  calm  to  a  storm  at  midday. 

But  perhaps  in  this  very  change  she  found  what 
was  best  for  her  at  this  time.  Her  absorbing  grief, 
her  hidden  life  of  prayer,  might  have  made  her 
existence  too  purely  contemplative,  but  for  the 
eager,  stirring  spirit  at  her  side.  And  in  Julius, 
who  was  tender  and  chivalrous  to  all  women,  pitiful 
and  sympathizing  to  all  in  sorrow,  his  brother's 
widow  found  a  tenderness  of  more  than  fraternal 
love,  —  a  watchful  care,  a  gentle  reverence,  which 
was  almost  amazing  to  those  who  saw  them 
together.  He  looked  upon  her  coming  into  his 
lonely  home  as  the  dawn  of  a  new,  a  better,  and  a 
happier  life ;  and,  as  the  greatest  blessing  which 
God  could  have  given  him,  he  honored  and  cher- 
ished her.  He  confided  in  her  every  anxiety,  he 
consulted  her  on  every  duty,  he  talked  with  her  of 
all  he  read,  he  read  to  her  all  he  wrote,  —  he  con- 
sidered nothing  worth  having  in  which  she  had  no 
share. 

Vividly  still,  through  the  mist  of  many  years, 


244  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

there  comes  back  to  those  who  shared  their  home 
the  beautiful  vision  of  his  great  love  for  his  "  Mia," 
as  he  always  called  her,  —  the  touching  remem- 
brance of  his  manner  in  speaking  of  her,  of  the 
glow  upon  his  face,  of  the  glistening  in  his  eye,  — 
the  recollection  of  the  intensity  of  tenderness,  of 
respect,  and  of  blessing,  which  was  poured  forth  for 
her  in  his  morning  and  evening  greeting.  And  she 
was  truly  in  his  home  as  "  an  angel  in  the  house," 
linking  on  her  present  to  her  past  life,  taking  up 
all  her  former  duties,  but  with  her  soul  purified  and 
enlightened  by  the  furnace  of  sorrow  through  which 
she  had  passed,  receiving  God's  poor  as  a  legacy  to 
watch  and  cherish,  —  not  morbid  in  grief,  but  ac- 
cepting all  the  consolations  which  were  left  to  her ; 
not  narrow  in  religion,  and  prone  to  refuse  God's 
other  gifts,  but  joyfully  receiving  all, — books,  art, 
music,  and,  above  all,  the  beauties  and  pleasures  of 
nature,  —  as  helps,  not  hindrances,  in  her  path. 
And  thus  it  came  to  be,  that  in  her  after  years, 
which  to  many  seemed  so  desolate,  as  one  friend 
after  another  passed  beyond  the  veil,  while  stran- 
gers thought  her  course  must  indeed  be  leading  her 
through  a  thorny  and  a  stony  wilderness,  it  was 
rather  the  ascending  step  by  step  of  a  ladder, 
lighted  by  an  unfailing  glow  of  celestial  sunshine, 
and  upon  which  figures  of  angels  were  ascending 
and  descending,  —  forms  often  well-known  and 
loved,  —  ministering  spirits  from   God. 

Well  remembered  by  the  few  still  remaining  who 
shared  them,  are  the  peculiar  habits  of  the  life  in 


HURSTMONCEAUX   RECTORY.  245 

these  years  at  Hurstmonceaux  rectory,  —  the  late 
breakfast  in  the  sunny  book-lined  room,  with  the 
scent  of  the  orange-trees  and  geraniums  wafted  in 
through  the  open  doors  of  the  conservatory,  the 
eager  discussions  over  the  letters,  the  vehement 
declamations  over  the  newspaper,  the  frequent 
interpolation  of  a  reading  from  Coleridge  or 
Wordsworth,  the  constant  interruption  from  the 
host  of  beggars  who  knew  only  too  well  that  they 
were  never  sent  away  empty-handed,  and  who  were 
discovered  to  have  left  a  secret  notice  for  one 
another  at  the  entrance-gate  that  it  was  not  a 
house  to  pass  by.  Then  Julius  Hare  would  seize 
his  straw  hat,  and,  while  composing  and  meditat- 
ing, would  pace  rapidly  up  and  down  his  favorite 
walk  between  the  oak-trees,  whence  he  could  look 
across  the  Level  to  the  sea,  against  the  shining 
line  of  which  the  gray  stunted  spire  of  the  hill-set 
church  would  stand  out  as  if  embossed  ;  or  some- 
times he  would  saunter  leisurely,  with  his  Mia  by 
his  side,  and  visit  each  growing  shrub  or  opening 
flower  with  familiar  and  fond  affection.  Then  would 
come  the  many  hours  of  writing  in  his  library,  end- 
ing only  as  the  sun  began  to  set,  when  he  would  go 
forth  in  the  evening  dews  upon  a  distant  parish 
walk,  returning  to  dinner  at  any  hour,  utterly  obliv- 
ious of  time  ;  and  the  evenings,  filled  with  interest, 
in  which  he  would  pace  the  drawing-room  in  eager 
talk,  snatching  a  volume  every  now  and  then  from 
the  bookcase  to  illustrate  what  he  was  saying,  or 
would  sit  down  and  translate  some  German  author 
into  fluent  English  as  he  read. 


246  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

"  An  active  parish  priest,  in  the  proper  sense 
of  the  word,  Julius  Hare  never  was  ;  not  so  much, 
perhaps,  by  reason  of  his  literary  pursuits  as  of  his 
desultory  habits.  Constant,  regular,  vigilant  min- 
istrations to  the  poor,  were  not  his  wont,  perhaps 
they  were  not  his  call.  Nor  can  he  be  said,  as  a 
general  rule,  to  have  accommodated  his  teaching 
to  his  parishioners.  Compared  with  the  short  and 
homely  addresses  of  his  brother  Augustus  to  the 
poor  of  Alton,  his  long  and  elaborate  discourses 
will  hardly  hold  their  place  as  models  of  parochial 
exhortation,  even  to  more  enlightened  congrega- 
tions than  those  of  Hurstmonceaux.  But  it  would 
be  a  great  mistake  to  measure  his  influence  on  his 
parish,  or  his  interest  in  it,  by  these  indications. 
Coming  to  Hurstmonceaux  as  he  did,  —  to  the 
scene  of  his  own  early  years,  remembered  as  a 
child  by  the  old  inhabitants,  honored  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  a  family  long  known  amongst  them, 
—  he  was,  from  the  first,  bound  to  them  and  they 
to  him  by  a  link  which  years  always  rivet  with  a 
strength  of  which  both  parties  are  often  uncon- 
scious till  it  is  rent  asunder.  His  own  knowledge 
of  their  history,  of  their  abodes,  of  their  characters, 
perhaps  in  great  measure  from  the  same  cause, 
was  very  remarkable ;  and  although  his  visits  to 
them  might  be  comparatively  few,  yet  theirs  to  the 
rectory  were  constant,  the  more  so  because  they 
were  always  sure  to  receive  a  ready  welcome. 
Whatever  might  be  the  work  in  which  he  was 
employed,  he  at  once  laid  it  aside  at  the  call  of  the 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  247 

humblest  parishioner,  to  advise,  console,  listen,  as- 
sist. There  was  that,  too,  in  his  manner,  in  his 
words,  in  his  voice  and  countenance,  which  would 
not  fail  to  impress  even  the  dullest  with  a  sense  of 
truth,  of  determination,  of  uprightness,  yet  more, 
with  a  sense  of  deep  religious  feeling,  of  abhor- 
rence of  sin,  of  love  of  goodness,  of  humble  de- 
pendence on  God.  Such  a  feeling  transpired  in 
his  ordinary  conversation  with  them  ;  it  transpired 
still  more  in  the  deep  devotion  with  which  he  went 
through  the  various  services  of  the  church.  '  If 
you  have  never  heard  Julius  Hare  read  the  com- 
munion service/  was  the  expression  of  one  who 
had  been  much  struck,  as  indeed  all  were,  by 
his  mode  of  reading  this  especial  portion  of  the 
Liturgy,  '  you  do  not  know  what  the  words  of  that 
service  contain.'  And  in  his  sermons,  needlessly 
long  and  provokingly  inappropriate  as  they  some- 
times were,  there  were  from  time  to  time  passages 
so  beautiful  in  themselves,  so  congenial  to  the  time 
and  place,  that  Hurstmonceaux  may  well  be  proud, 
as  it  may  well  be  thankful,  to  have  its  name,  its 
scenery,  its  people  associated  with  thought  and 
language  so  just  and  so  noble.  Who  is  there 
that  ever  has  seen  the  old  church  of  Hurstmon- 
ceaux, with  its  yew-tree  and  churchyard  and  view 
over  sea  and  land,  and  will  not  feel  that  it  has 
received  a  memorial  forever  in  the  touching  allu- 
sions to  the  death  of  Phillis  Hoad,  to  the  grave 
of  Lina  Deimling,  to  the  ancient  church  on  the 
hill-top?     Who  that  has  ever  heard  or  read  the 


248  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

striking  introduction  of  the  stories  of  Hooker's 
death,  and  of  the  warning  of  St.  Philip  Neri,  in 
the  sermons  on  the  '  Chariots  of  God '  and  on  the 
'  Close  of  the  Year,'  will  not  feel  the  power  and  life 
given  to  the  pastor  of  the  humblest  flock  by  his 
command  of  the  varied  treasures  of  things  new 
and  old,  instead  of  the  commonplaces  which  fill  up 
so  many  vacant  pages  of  the  sermons  of  an  ordi- 
nary preacher.  Not  seldom,  thus,  a  passage  of 
Scripture  or  an  event  of  sacred  history  was  ex- 
plained and  brought  home  to  the  apprehension  of 
his  most  unlettered  hearers,  when  it  seemed  to 
those  who  listened  as  if  the  windows  of  heaven 
were  opened  for  a  flood  of  light  to  come  down  ; 
and  when  the  purest  and  most  practical  lessons 
of  morality  were  educed  with  surprising  force 
and   attractiveness."  * 

The  spirit  by  which  Julius  Hare's  ordinary  life 
was  animated  was  essentially  a  joyous  spirit,  per- 
haps it  was  the  very  energy  of  his  character  which 
made  it  so.  "  His  family  devotions,"  wrote  his 
friend  Mr.  Elliott,  "were  always  large  in  thanks- 
giving. He  never  prayed  without  thanksgiving  ; 
nor  without  the  Lord's  Prayer.  And  it  was  per- 
haps that  spirit,  so  abundant  in  thanksgiving,  which 
gave  a  charm  and  a  joyousness,  an  uplifted  heart 
and  a  kindling  eye  to  the  general  character  of 
his  social  life  ;  and  which  made  him  so  ready  to 
love,  and,  wherever  he  was  known,  so  beloved." 

And  this  joyousness  went  forth  to  nothing  so 

*  Quarterly  Review,  cxciii. 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  249 

much  as  to  the  works  of  Nature,  especially  to  her 
smaller  works,  to  the  shrubs  of  his  shrubbery,  the 
flowers  of  his  garden,  the  view  from  his  window. 
The  thoughts  which  occurred  to  him  here  in  his 
home-garden,  as  he  was  pacing  its  walks,  were 
often  reflected  in  his  sermons.  Thus,  in  the 
sermon   on  the  Contagion  of  Evil  :  — 

"We  are  utterly  unable  to  bring  forth  any  thing, 
whether  in  thought  or  deed,  that  shall  be  perfect  in 
the  sight  of  God,  —  as  unable  as  we  are  to  build  up  a 
sky  with  our  hands,  and  to  launch  a  fleet  of  stars  across 
it.  Hereby  we  betray  a  secret  corruption  of  our  nature, 
the  taint  of  which  spreads  through  our  whole  lives.  We 
betray  that  we  have  touched  the  dead  body  of  Sin. 
Think  what  an  enormous  difference  there  is,  in  conse- 
quence of  this  fatal  touch,  between  man  and  the  other 
parts  of  creation.  When  a  tree  is  healthy,  what  a  num- 
ber of  leaves  does  it  bring  forth,  each  one  perfect  in  its 
kind,  —  unless  there  be  some  blight,  or  some  nipping 
blasts,  something  not  in  itself,  but  from  without,  to  in* 
jure  them.  Now,  man  is  made  to  be  lord  over  the  trees  ; 
and  the  lord  should  of  right  be  better  than  that  he  rules. 
Yet,  when  will  man  bring  forth  good  thoughts,  and  good 
words,  and  good  deeds,  as  abundantly  as  the  tree  brings 
forth  its  leaves  ?  Whereas  if  man's  nature  were  sound 
and  healthy,  surely  the  lord  of  the  earth,  he  who  was 
made  in  the  image  of  God,  and  was  endowed  with  the 
mighty,  teeming  powers,  of  thought  and  speech,  and  de- 
sire, and  affection,  and  action,  ought  not  to  be  thus  sur- 
passed by  creatures  without  thought  or  feeling.  Or 
think,  again,  of  the  beautiful  flowers,  each  perfect  in  its 
kind,  which  a  garden  brings  forth  in  spring  and  sum- 
11* 


250  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

mer ;  and  then  tell  me,  where  are  your  flowers  which 
God  appointed  you  to  bring  forth?  Where  is  their 
sweetness  ?  Where  are  the  living  seeds  in  them  ?  Nay, 
what  flowers,  how  many,  my  brethren,  have  you  brought 
forth  during  the  last  summer?  Think  well,  have  you 
done  any  thing  to  which  you  can  give  so  fair  a  name  ? 
If  not,  can  it  be  right  that  you  alone  in  the  universe 
should  utterly  fail  in  fulfilling  God's  purpose.  Again, 
what  rich  ears  of  corn  has  this  autumn  ripened  !  how 
full  they  have  been  !  how  heavy  the  grain !  Have  our 
deeds  during  the  last  autumn  been  like  those  ears  of 
corn  ?  Alas,  no !  none  of  us  can  say  this  of  himself. 
Surely,  then,  we  must  all  be  unclean  j  for  every  thing  we 
do  has  a  rotting  taint  of  uncleanness." 

From  the  way  in  which  Julius  Hare's  habits  of 
thought  all  had  their  source  in  what  he  read,  and 
his  constant  hourly  outpouring  of  all  his  opinions 
and  feelings  thereon,  the  great  authors  both  of 
England  and  Germany  seemed  almost  more  familiar 
as  household  inmates  during  the  first  years  which 
Maria  Hare  spent  with  her  brother-in-law,  than  the 
persons  among  whom  they  visibly  dwelt.  For 
Coleridge  and  Wordsworth  especially,  his  admi- 
ration was  almost  unbounded.  Coleridge  he  had 
known  intimately  in  his  Cambridge  life,  though 
after  his  removal  to  Hurstmonceaux  he  scarcely 
saw  him  again  ;  but  his  interest  in  the  man,  as  well 
as  in  his  works,  was  kept  up  through  the  medium 
of  his  friend  John  Sterling,  and  the  visits  which 
the  latter  paid  to  the  poet  in  his  retreat  at  High- 
gate.      In    1835    he  showed  his   gratitude  for  all 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  25  I 

that  he  considered  he  had  learnt  from  Coleridge, 
in  a  "  Vindication,"  which  he  published  in  the 
British  Magazine,  against  accusations  which  had 
been  brought  against  both  his  private  and  philo- 
sophic character ;  this  being  the  first  of  a  series  of 
vindications  which  afterwards  flowed  from  his  pen. 
In  1846  his  "Mission  of  the  Comforter"  was  in- 
scribed "  To  the  honored  Memory  of  Samuel  Taylor 
Coleridge,  the  Christian  philosopher,  who,  through 
dark  and  winding  paths  of  speculation  was  led  to 
the  light,  in  order  that  others,  by  his  guidance, 
might  reach  that  light  without  passing  through  the 
darkness,  these  sermons  on  the  work  of  the  Spirit 
are  dedicated  with  deep  thankfulness  and  reverence 
by  one  of  the  many  pupils  whom  his  writings  have 
helped  to  discern  the  sacred  concord  and  unity  of 
human  and  divine  truth." 

Even  in  his  sermons,  Julius  Hare  frequently 
drew  his  illustrations  from  the  works  of  Coleridge. 
Such,  in  the  sermon  on  "The  Shaking  of  the 
Nations,"  is  the  allusion  to  the  Ancient  Mariner. 

"There  is  a  beautiful  poem,  in  which  a  mariner, 
having  committed  a  grievous  sin,  is  visited  with  a  terrible 
punishment;  and  whereas  most  poets  in  such  cases 
would  represent  the  offender  as  being  overtaken  with  a 
violent  storm,  even  as  Jonah  was  when  he  fled  from  the 
presence  of  the  Lord,  the  punishment  of  the  mariner 
consists  in  his  being  becalmed  in  the  midst  of  the  sea, 
under  'a  hot  and  copper  sky,'  where  no  breath  was,  or. 
motion,  until  the  very  sea  did  rot,  and  slimy  things 
crawled  about  upon  the  slimy  sea.     This  punishment 


252  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

of  the  mariner  is  a  sort  of  type  of  what  the  state  of 
the  world  would  be,  if  God  did  not  from  time  to  time 
shake  it." 

In  the  writings  of  Coleridge,  his  friend  especially 
honored  the  carrying  out  of  what  was,  in  fact,  the 
principle  of  his  own  writings,  that  "  there  should 
be  a  reason  not  only  for  every  word,  but  for  the 
position  of  every  word." 

"  A  man,"  wrote  Julius  Hare  in  the  "  Guesses  at 
Truth,"  "  should  love  and  venerate  his  native  lan- 
guage as  the  awakener  and  stirrer  of  all  his 
thoughts,  the  frame  and  mould  of  his  spiritual 
being,  as  the  great  bond  and  medium  of  inter- 
course with  his  fellows,  as  the  mirror  in  which  he 
sees  his  own  nature,  and  without  which  he  could 
not  commune  with  himself,  as  the  image  in  which 
the  wisdom  of  God  has  chosen  to  reveal  itself  to y 
him.  He  who  thus  thinks  of  his  native  language 
will  never  touch  it  without  reverence.  Yet  his 
reverence  will  not  withhold,  but  rather  encourage 
him  to  do  what  he  can  to  purify  and  improve  it. 
Of  this  duty  no  Englishman  in  our  times  has 
shown  himself  so  well  aware  as  Coleridge,  which  is 
a  proof  that  he  possessed  some  of  the  most  impor- 
tant elements  of  the  philosophical  mind."  Of  the 
death  of  Coleridge  he  wrote .:  "  The  light  of  his 
eye  is  quenched  ;  none  shall  listen  any  more  to  the 
sweet  music  of  his  voice ;  none  shall  feel  their 
souls  teem  and  burst,  as  beneath  the  breath  of 
spring,  while  the  life-giving  words  of  the  poet- 
philosopher  flow  over  them." 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  253 

With  Wordsworth,  "above  all  men  the  poet  of 
nature,"  who  had  been  equally  honored  by  his 
brother  Augustus,  Julius  Hare  preserved  through 
life  an  intimate  friendship  and  an  occasional  corre- 
spondence, and  to  him  .he  dedicated  the  second 
edition  of  the  "  Guesses  at  Truth."  A  copy  of  his 
works,  old  and  worn  with  much  reading,  was  never 
permitted  to  be  put  up  in  his  shelves,  but  always 
lay  upon  the  ledge  of  the  book-case,  near  the  door 
which  opened  towards  the  garden,  to  be  snatched 
up  and  read  in  the  open  air  in  any  stray  moment 
of  refreshment.  More  than  any  other  author,  also, 
would  he  read  Wordsworth  aloud  in  the  evening, 
his  voice  telling  how  his  heart  followed  each  line  of 
the  poem. 

"  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,"  he  wrote,  "  came 
forward  in  a  shallow,  hard,  and  worldly  age, — 
an  age  alien  and  almost  averse  from  the  higher 
and  more  strenuous  exercises  of  imagination  and 
thought,  as  the  purifiers  and  regenerators  of  poetry 
and  philosophy.  It  was  a  great  aim,  and  greatly 
they  both  wrought  for  its  accomplishment.  Many 
who  are  now  amongst  England's  best  hope  and 
stay  will  respond  to  my  thankful  acknowledgment 
of  the  benefits  my  heart  and  mind  have  received 
from  them  both.  Many  will  echo  my  wish,  for  the 
benefit  of  my  country,  that  their  influence  may  be 
more  and  more  widely  diffused.  Many  will  join  in 
my  prayer,  that  health  and  strength  of  mind  and 
body  may  be  granted  to  them,  to  complete  the  noble 
works  which  they  have  in  store,  so  that  men  may 


254  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

learn  more  worthily  to  understand  and  appreciate 
what  a  glorious  gift  God  bestows  on  a  nation,  when 
he  gives  them  a  poet." 

It  was  on  receiving  an  unpublished  poem  of 
Wordsworth  from  the  hands  of  Julius  Hare,  at 
Hurstmonceaux  Rectory,  that  Landor  wrote  the 
lines  :  — 

"  Derwent !  Winander  !  your  twin  poets  come, 
Star-crown'd  along  with  you,  nor  stand  apart. 
Wordsworth  comes  hither,  hither  Southey  comes, 
His  friend  and  mine,  and  every  man's  who  lives, 
Or  who  shall  live  when  days  far  off  have  risen. 
Here  are  they  with  me  yet  again,  here  dwell 
Among  the  sages  of  antiquity, 
Under  his  hospitable  roof  whose  life 
Surpasses  theirs  in  strong  serenity, 
Whose  genius  walks  more  humbly,  stooping  down 
From  the  same  heights  to  cheer  the  weak  of  soul 
And  guide  the  erring  from  the  tortuous  way. 
Hail,  ye  departed  !  hail,  thou  later  friend, 
Julius  !  but  never  by  my  voice  invoked 
With  such  an  invocation   .    .   .    hail,  and  live  I '" 

In  the  same  month  which  brought  his  sister-in- 
aw  to  live  with  him,  John  Sterling  came  to  Julius 
rfare  as  a  curate,  and  the  next  six  months  were 
passed  by  the  three  in  constant  intercourse  and 
intimate  friendship.  "  Of  that  which  it  was  to  me 
personally  to  have  such  a  fellow-laborer,"  wrote  the 
rector,  "  to  live  constantly  in  the  freest  communion 
with  such  a  friend,  I  cannot  speak.  He  came  to  me 
at  a  time  of  heavy  affliction,  just  after  I  had  heard 
that  the  brother  who  had  been  the  sharer  of  all  my 
thoughts  and  feelings  from  my  childhood  had  bid 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  255 

farewell  to  his  earthly  life  at  Rome ;  and  thus  he 
seemed  given  to  me  to  make  up  in  some  sort  for  him 
whom  I  had  lost.  Almost  daily  did  I  look  out  at  his 
usual  hour  for  coming  to  me,  and  watch  his  tall  slen- 
der form  walking  rapidly  across  the  hill  in  front  of 
my  window,  with  the  assurance  that  he  was  coming 
to  cheer  and  brighten,  to  rouse  and  stir  me,  to 
call  me  up  to  some  height  of  feeling,  or  down 
into  some  depths  of  thought.  His  lively  spirit 
responding  instantaneously  to  every  impulse  of 
nature  or  of  art,  his  generous  ardor  in  behalf  of 
whatever  is  noble  and  true,  his  scorn  of  all  mean- 
ness, of  all  false  pretences  and  conventional  beliefs, 
softened  as  it  was  by  compassion  for  the  victims  of 
those  besetting  sins  of  a  cultivated  age,  his  never- 
flagging  impetuosity  in  pushing  onward  to  some 
unattained  point  of  duty  or  of  knowledge,  along 
with  his  gentle,  almost  reverential  affectionateness 
towards  his  former  tutor,  rendered  my  intercourse 
with  him  an  unspeakable  blessing ;  and  time  after 
time  has  it  seemed  to  me  that  his  visit  had  been 
like  a  shower  of  rain,  bringing  down  freshness  and 
brightness  on  a  dusty  roadside  hedge.  By  him, 
too,  the  recollection  of  these  our  daily  meetings 
was  cherished  to  the  last.  In  a  letter  to  his  eldest 
boy,  who  was  at  school,  and  to  whom  he  used  to 
write  daily,  about  two  months  before  his  death, 
after  speaking  of  various  flowers  in  his  garden, 
especially  of  some  gum-cistuses,  he  says  :  '  I  think 
I  like  them  chiefly  because  I  remember  a  large 
bush  of  the  kind,  close  to  the  greenhouse  through 


256  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

which  one  passed  into  Mr  Hare's  library.  The 
ground  used  to  be  all  white  with  the  fallen  flowers. 
I  have  so  often  stood  near  it,  talking  to  him,  and 
looking  away  over  the  Pevensey  Level  to  the  huge 
old  Roman  castle,  and  the  sea,  and  Beachy  Head 
beyond.  The  thought  of  the  happy  hours  I  have 
so  spent  in  talking  with  him  is,  and  always  will  be, 
very  pleasant.  It  is  long  since  I  saw  him.  I  have 
been  too  ill,  and  have  too  much  besides  upon 
me  to  keep  up  latterly  almost  any  correspondence ; 
but  I  know  that  if  we  meet  to-morrow,  or  to- 
morrow come  a  hundred  years,  it  would  be  as  of 
old,  like  brothers."'* 

The  pleasure  with  which  Sterling's  visits  were 
welcomed  at  the  rectory  was  of  short  duration.  In 
the  following  year  the  failure  of  his  health  com- 
pelled him  to  leave  Hurstmonceaux,  and  though  he 
long  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  his  friends, 
especially  with  Mrs.  Hare,  they  seldom  met  after- 
wards. 

So  few  events  marked  the  peaceful  first  ten  years 
of  Maria  Hare's  widowed  life,  that  it  is  unnecessary 
to  give  any  consecutive  account  of  them.  The 
summers  were  all  passed  in  the  quiet  of  Hurst- 
monceaux, in  devotion  to  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
interests  of  its  poor ;  the  winters  were  spent  at 
Stoke  Rectory  with  her  father,  now  in  a  most 
patriarchal  old  age.  The  impress  of  the  thoughts 
and  interests  by  which  she  was  surrounded  is  left 

*  Life  of  John  Sterling,  affixed  to  his  "Essays." 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  257 

in  the  following  gleanings  from  letters  and  journals 
of  this  time  :  — 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

" Hurstmo?iceaux  Rectory \  July  16,  1834.  —  Am  I  really 
here  ?  Is  this  place  I  look  upon  —  I  write  from  —  really 
Hurstmonceaux  ?  I  hardly  yet  feel  it.  The  shock  of 
leaving  Alton,  of  coming  here  first,  is  not  yet  passed 
away  enough  to  leave  me  free  to  think  or  know  where  I 
am.  My  Luce,  I  never  yet  felt  any  thing  like  the  dead 
melancholy  of  my  present  sense  that  Alton  and  its  beauti- 
ful happiness  have  passed  away  forever.  I  cannot  tell  you 
what  the  feeling  was  on  arriving  here  yesterday  to  know 
that  the  seal  was  set  to  it,  that  there  remains  no  more  of 
the  past,  that  all  is  become  new.  .  .  .  Yet  I  feel  strongly 
how  good  it  is  for  me  to  be  taken  away  from  such  smooth 
paths,  how  far  too  pleasant  and  self-indulgent  a  life  it 
would  have  been  to  deal  with  such  affectionate  and  sim- 
ple people  as  those,  to  have  had  such  tender  love  and 
gratitude.  No :  God  loves  me  far  too  well  to  endanger 
keeping  my  self-loving  heart  from  its  onward  path,  by 
allowing  such  earthly  happiness,  and  yet  He  scatters 
such  blessings  around  me  as  may  safely  be  permitted 
elsewhere. 

"  On  Sunday  I  gave  all  the  Bibles,  covered  with  black 
cloth,  and  made,  though  with  much  difficulty,  a  little  ex- 
hortation to  the  Alton  children  with  so  precious  a  gift. 
I  printed  in  the  first  page,  '  From  her  dear  minister,  Rev. 
A.  H.,'  and  2  Tim.  iii.  14,  15.  .  In  the  evening,  Mr.  Kil- 
vert  preached  in  the  little  church  on  *  Awake,  thou  that 
sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give 
thee  light.'  It  was  a  very  striking  sermon,  and  the  ani- 
mating thoughts  which   it   aroused  lifted  up  my  poor 

Q 


258  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

drooping  spirit  from  the  very,  very  sad  feeling  of  never 
again  being  in  that  most  blessed  church  —  my  Augustus's 
church,  and  with  his  people  —  to  the  time  when  the 
redeemed  of  the  Lord  will  meet  to  sing  together  the 
praises  of  the  Lamb  in  the  church  on  high. 

"  July  20.  —  I  daily  feel  more  and  more  how  exactly 
this  place  is  suited  to  me,  how  fitted  at  present  to  re- 
store my  inward  peace.  There  is  so  much  time  alone, 
and  so  much  interest  of  a  kind  which  will  take  me  out 
of  self ;  and  of  Julius  I  cannot  tell  you  all  the  gentle- 
ness and  tender  affection.  I  have  been  for  two  days 
with  the  Penrhyns  at  Eastbourne,  which  is  the  quietest 
place  possible,  no  smart  people,  and  a  magnificent  sea. 
As  I  sat  on  the  beach  till  near  dark,  and  watched  the 
waves  rolling  up  and  the  vessels  sailing  on  in  the  even- 
ing sunlight,  how  I  did  think  of  that  bright  sun  that 
lights  our  fragile  vessels  through  a  sea  often  troubled, 
and  will  as  surely  lead  them  to  a  haven  of  peace  and 
rest,  —  that  haven  where  he,  my  beloved  Augustus,  is 
now  safe  from  every  storm  and  wave  !  " 

"Julius's  delight  at  my  return  was  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  that  affection  I  so  miss,  of  any  thing  I  have 
met  with.  I  found  him  in  great  sorrow  at  the  news  of 
Coleridge's  death.  I  feel  too  the  public  loss,  as  you 
would  if  you  had  read  the  MSS.  I  have  lately  been 
reading  of  his  —  such  a  rare  combination  of  the  highest 
intellectual  and  deepest  spiritual  truth  as  one  seldom 
sees ;  but  I  can  only  now  feel  that  he  is  truly  one  that 
never  dies,  and  think  of  the  joy  to  his  spirit  to  be  set  free. 
There  are  some  letters  on  the  inspiration  of  Scripture 
which  Mr.  Sterling  lent  me,  showing  strongly  the  mis- 
chief done  to  many  minds  by  insisting  on  the  verbal 
inspiration  of  the  historical   Scriptures,  and  making  a 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  259 

distinction  I  never  saw  before  between  the  revealing 
word  that  spoke  in  the  law  and  by  the  prophets,  from 
the  assisting  Spirit  that  kept  the  other  sacred  writers 
from  all  essential  error  in  their  narratives  ;  but  with  all 
this  there  is  mingled  such  a  deep  spiritual  feeling  of  the 
depth  of  God's  word,  such  beautiful  application  of  it,  and 
sense  of  its  life  and  spirit,  as  only  one  could  have  who 
had  drunk  deep  of  the  well  of  living  water. 

"July  22.  —  This  house  is  quite  perfect,  not  at  all 
too  grand  for  a  parsonage-house,  though  outside  it  looks 
more  like  a  small  squire's  than  a  rector's.  .  .  .  Yester- 
day for  the  first  time  I  went  out  with  Julius  in  his  new 
carriage,  and  saw  the  old  castle,  which  is  very  grand  and 
picturesque,  and  the  churchyard,  which  is  one  I  long  to 
go  and  sit  in,  having  a  magnificent  old  yew-tree,  and  a 
view  all  around  over  a  great  open  expanse,  bounded  on 
one  side  by  the  sea  ;  just  where  you  and  I  shall  love  to 
spend  hours  together  reading  and  talking  over  all  those 
heavenly  joys  on  the  other  side  of  the  grave,  that  many  of 
those  sleeping  beneath  the  sod  are  now  enjoying.  The 
lanes  leading  to  the  church  are  very  pretty. 

Lucy  Anne  Hare  to  Maria  Hare 

"  July,  1834.  —  No  one  can  now  keep  side  by  side 
with  you  through  every  pang  and  recollection  as  I  can. 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  constantly  I  feel,  and  the  more 
now  I  am  a  member  of  his  family,  that  his  absence 
leaves  a  gap  which  no  one  else  can  fill,  —  as  peace- 
maker, as  one  whom  all  (however  they  might  disagree  in 
other  things)  agreed  in  loving.  My  own  Mia,  I  am  very 
sure  you  are  more  blessed  in  the  memory  of  such  a  hus- 
band and  companion  than  any  one,  even  the  happiest 
one  could  name.  ...  I  now  feel  as  if  Alton  had  passed 


26o  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

away,  but  shall  always  have  the  picture  of  it  in  my  mind, 
just  as  it  was.  I  look  upon  you  now,  my  Mia,  with  a 
very  peculiar  feeling,  as  if  a  portion  of  your  being  were 
dwelling  with  him,  in  the  world  whither  he  is  gone,  and 
yet  another  portion  were  left  among  us,  to  cheer  and  en- 
courage, to  animate  us  on  our  way.  If  he  whom  I  so 
dearly  loved  has  left  a  vacancy  in  my  life,  which  I  feel 
nothing  can  ever  fill  up,  you,  whom  I  have  equally  loved, 
have  added  a  joy  such  as  I  have  never  felt.  When  I 
think  of  you,  it  is  like  an  Amen  to  the  Bible,  to  the  truth 
and  certainty  of  all  its  blessed  promises,  —  as  your 
strength  has  been,  so  I  dare  to  hope  mine  would  be,  for 
in  every  hour  that  passes,  my  heart's  true  expression  is, 
1  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee,  and  there  is  none 
upon  earth  that  I  desire  beside  Thee  ? '  " 

"August  12,  1834.  —  One  of  the  Guesses  which  has 
lately  been  much  in  my  thoughts  is,  '  A  man  does  harm 
to  others  by  his  actions,  to  himself-  by  his  thoughts.' 
How  often  at  the  close  of  a  day,  all  outwardly  fair  and 
harmless,  those  around  might  say,  '  how  good ; '  one's 
own  heart,  '  how  bad  : '  the  Christian  life  is  so  very  ten- 
der, a  thought,  a  bad  feeling  only  momentarily  let  in, 
lonely  moments  neglected,  prayers  put  off,  human  praise 
delighted  in,  self  promoted  while  apparently  kept  down. 
'  To  walk  with  God '  is  a  mystery,  a  mere  form  of  words, 
to  the,  as  yet,  unfighting  Christian ;  but  when  once  the 
warfare  is  begun,  the  unending  conflict  here  between 
grace  and  sin  commenced,  how  clear,  how  expressive 
they  are  j  we  cannot  walk  with  Him  if  there  is  a  single 
point  at  variance,  our  will  must  be  his,  our  spirit  his." 

The  one  drop  wanting  in  the  cup  of  married 
happiness  at  Alton  had  been  that  no  child  had 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  26 1 

been  given,  and  as  his  earthly  life  was  fading, 
Augustus  Hare  had  grieved  that  his  Mia  should 
not  have  this  interest  left  to  comfort  and  solace 
her.  In  the  solitary  hours  of  her  long  return  jour- 
ney it  had  occurred  to  her  as  just  possible  that  her 
brother-in-law  Francis  and  his  wife  might  be  in- 
duced to  give  up  their  youngest  child,  Augustus, 
born  at  the  Villa  Strozzi,  in  the  first  weeks  of  her 
sorrow,  and  to  whom  she  had  been  godmother. 
When  she  was  established  at  Hurstmonceaux  rec- 
tory, she  determined  to  make  the  attempt,  and  was 
almost  as  much  surprised  as  rejoiced  by  the  glad 
acquiescence  her  proposal  met  with.  She  stipu- 
lated that  the  child  should  henceforward  be  hers 
and  hers  only,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  and  that 
it  should  be  brought  up  to  consider  all  her  family 
as  its  relations,  as  near,  or  nearer  than  those 
who  were  related  to  it  by  blood.  But  no  opposi- 
tion was  made  to  her  wishes,  and  it  was  promised 
that  the  child  should  be  sent  to  her  in  the  following 
summer,  when  it  would  be  fifteen  months  old. 

How  happy  this  adopted  relationship  of  mother 
and  son  became  in  after  years,  —  how  close  their 
union,  how  filled  with  every  blessing  to  the  child 
who  in  heart  was  more  than  her  own,  who  shared 
her  every  interest,  her  every  thought,  —  none  but 
those  who  had  a  part  in  their  daily  life  can  tell. 

Maria  Hare's  Note-Book. 

"Sept.,  1834. — It  often  seems  to  me  as  if  my  own 
spiritual  experience  afforded  a  clue  to  the  varying  opin- 


262  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

ions  and  theories  of  others ;  formed  as  they  usually  are 
on  one  state  of  feeling,  and  not  on  the  many  states 
through  which  a  Christian  has  to  pass. 

"  At  Rome,  when  I  had  so  felt  the  real  weight  of  sin, 
that  I  could  not  hope  for  eternal  happiness  from  any 
good  works  of  my  own,  and  had  sought  and  obtained 
peace  through  faith  in  Christ's  all-sufficient  sacrifice  and 
merits,  then  followed  a  complete  renunciation  of  self  into 
God's  hands.  It  seemed  for  a  time  as  if  self  was  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  contemplation  of  eternity  and  the  assur- 
ance of  the  inheritance  bought  for  me  by  Jesus.  All  the 
rubbish  of  earthly-mindedness  seemed  swept  away,  and 
I  lay,  as  it  were,  quite  passive  for  the  actings  of  God's 
spirit.  Thoughts  of  God  were  the  first  to  spring  up  in 
the  morning  j  my  heart  waited  not  for  my  head  to  teach 
it  how  to  pray,  but  was  lifted  up  unconsciously  and  with- 
out effort  in  words  of  prayer  and  praise.  The  looking 
to  Jesus  as  my  Saviour,  though  before  the  all-prevailing 
and  influential  source  of  love  and  gratitude,  seemed  now 
for  a  season  to  be  lost  in  the  adoration  of  God  Himself, 
and  the  operation  of  his  Spirit  on  my  soul,  sometimes 
felt  almost  sensibly  in  an  indescribable  communion  with 
Him  who  is  ' in  us  all,'  became  more  exclusively  the 
object  of  my  thoughts.  In  prayer  I  felt  most  strongly 
that  God  was  in  me,  that  I  no  longer  had  to  search  for 
Him  out  of  self;  his  temple  was  my  heart.  I  knew 
nothing  then  of  mysticism  ;  I  had  never  read  a  word  of 
that  school  of  theology :  but  I  sometimes  thought  within 
myself  this  must  be  very  much  what  the  Quakers  feel. 
There  was  then  no  temptation  to  try  me ;  I  was  ab- 
stracted from  the  world,  lived  in  a  complete  atmosphere 
of  spiritual  and  heavenly  thoughts,  and  sin  seemed  to  be 
completely  dead.     But  this  was  not  to  last,  my  peace- 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  263 

ful,  uninterrupted  heaven  on  earth  —  my  Roman  soli- 
tude—  ended.  The  journey,  with  all  its  trials  of 
fatigue,  illness,  sorrow,  the  having  again  to  do  with  my 
fellows,  soon  showed  me  that  sin,  though  lulled  asleep 
for  a  while,  was  not  dead,  and,  of  course,  the  near  view  of 
heavenly  things  I  had  obtained  quickened  the  mind  to  de- 
tect the  least  falling  away  from  the  perfect  union  of  my  will 
with  God's,  that  for  a  time  seemed  to  have  been  allowed. 
Then  frequent,  painful  experience  of  the  continued, 
though  subdued  power,  that  self  retained,  brought  me 
again  to  feel  the  blessedness  of  the  Saviour's  love  and 
righteousness,  to  feel  the  comfort  of  the  forgiveness  He 
had  bought,  and  the  sure  dependence  I  might  place 
on  his  perfect  goodness  in  the  sight  of  God,  as  a  rock 
never  to  be  moved,  while  my  sanctification  must  ever  be 
imperfect,  and,  if  the  sole  ground  of  hope  for  justification, 
must  be  unstable. 

"  So,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  it  that  there  is  a  germ  of 
truth  contained  in  Quakerism,  Mysticism,  and  even  the 
enlarged  Unitarian  notion  of  the  Godhead ;  .  .  .  but  all 
equally  fail  in  not  being  adapted  to  the  corruption  of 
the  outward  world,  wherein,  without  becoming  hermits, 
temptation  to  evil  is  unavoidable,  and  corruption  in 
the  heart  —  though  rendered  in  the  regenerate  sudor- 
dinate  to  the  love  of  God  —  is  not  rooted  out.  So  that 
without  continual  beholding  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ,  we 
shall  grow  cold  in  love  ;  without  looking  to  Him  as  our 
justification,  we  shall  become  faint  in  hope ;  and  with- 
out making  Him  our  example,  we  shall  come  short  in 
holiness." 

"Nov.  1. — When  from  outward  circumstances  or 
inward  temperament,  the  Bible  is  the  main  food  of  my 


264  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

mind  through  the  day,  and  all  other  supply  of  intellectual 
nourishment  is  only  the  garnish,  as  it  were,  to  this  chief 
dish ;  or,  to  borrow  an  image  from  music,  when  God's 
word  is  the  air,  and  man's  word  only  the  accompani- 
ment, my  soul  is  kept  in  perfect  peace  ;  it  feels  as  if  all 
were  in  its  right  place  and  fitting  proportion.  When, 
on  the  contrary,  from  hindrances  from  without  or  within, 
this  is  not  so,  and  the  wisdom  of  man  is  most  promi- 
nently brought  before  me,  and  that  of  God  thrown  into 
the  distance,  I  feel  ill  at  ease,  and  my  mind  seems  tossed 
to  and  fro  without  stay  or  peace. 

"Nervous  sympathy  with  others  greatly  adds  to  the 
difficulty  of  maintaining  a  firm  position  when  with  those 
who  feel  differently ;  but  perhaps  this  too  may,  by  prayer 
and  watching  and  self-denial,  be  conquered  through  His 
power,  who  is  able  to  subdue  all  things  to  Himself.  I 
have  not  yet  resisted  unto  blood.  What  must  have  been 
the  struggle,  the  fight  of  the  divine  against  the  human 
nature  which  went  thus  far!" 

"To  the  natural  man,  Time  is  the  substance,  Eternity 
the  shadow ;  to  the  spiritual  man,  Eternity  is  the  sub- 
stance, Time  the  shadow." 

"  The  difference  of  touch  between  a  sensitive  and  ner- 
vous woman  and  a  rough  ploughboy  is  much  that  which 
there  is  in  being  with  or  without  a  thick  gardening  glove. 
Many  people  seem  to  have  a  glove  upon  their  minds, 
and  to  feel  nothing  but  the  broadest  and  most  general 
outlines  of  a  thing." 

"  It  would  be  as  unwholesome  for  the  mind  to  feed 
only  on  Scripture,  as  it  would  be  for  the  body  to  be 


HURSTMONCEAUX   RECTORY.  265 

restricted  entirely  to  bread  or  to  meat.  There  are  dis- 
eases of  the  body  which  require  for  a  time  the  simple 
diet  of  one  kind  of  food  ;  and  so  the  mind,  under  peculiar 
trials  or  temptations,  needs  only  divine  truths  to  nourish 
and  strengthen  it,  and  would  not  be  able  to  digest  other 
spiritual  food.  But  this  is  not  the  healthy  and  healthful 
state  of  either  body  or  mind.  The  variety  of  powers  in 
both  require  a  variety  of  nourishment,  that  no  one  power 
may  go  without  its  fitting  support,  and  that  all  may  be 
invigorated  and  strengthened  together." 

"  The  worldling's  motto  is  Self-indulgence ;  the  Chris- 
tian's is  Self-denial." 

"In  God's  kingdom  we  cannot  remain  on  neutral 
ground  j  those  who  are  not  for  are  against.  But  there 
are  many  who  appear  to  man's  eyes  to  stand  neutral, 
because  he  cannot  discern  whether  the  seed  within  is 
ripening  into  life,  or  withering  away  to  death." 

"  The  soul  that  has  once  enjoyed  the  light  of  God's 
countenance  could  no  more  disbelieve,  though  it  were 
never  to  be  permitted  to  see  it  again,  than  the  existence 
of  the  sun  could  be  doubted,  though  perpetual  clouds 
were  to  obscure  it." 

*  Gleams  of  sunshine  often  light  up  the  distant  land- 
scape, while  the  sky  over  our  heads  is  covered  with 
clouds  :  so  is  the  reflected  light  of  Christ's  righteousness 
often  seen  in  the  members  of  his  body,  while  the  Sun  of 
Glory  Himself  is  hid  from  view  ;  and  by  those  who  have 
never  beheld  his  face,  the  light  which  beams  on  his  ser- 
vants is  ascribed  to  their  own  nature,  and  not  recognized 
as  a  borrowed  light." 
12 


266  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"  When  the  new  man  is  '  put  on,'  the  old  man  is  not, 
alas,  put  off;  it  is  only  put  under" 

"  No  anthropomorphism  in  the  New  Testament  ?  Is 
not  the  very  essence  of  it  contained  in  the  manifestation 
of  the  Incarnate  God  in  the  form  of  a  servant,  —  the 
Word  made  flesh,  —  seen  —  heard  —  handled  —  carried 
up  into  heaven  —  there  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God 
the  Father? 

"  The  Trinity  in  Unity  is  revealed  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment ;  the  division  of  persons  in  the  New. 

"  They  follow  two  lines,  —  Theology  as  a  science,  and 
Religion  as  a  personal  way  to  salvation." 

"The  natural  conscience  can  discern  a  difference 
between  right  and  wrong  abstractedly,  but  when  unre- 
newed by  divine  grace  there  is  no  struggle  against  the 
wrong  when  evil  is  present  to  the  mind ;  whereas  the 
new  man  feels  the  sin  warring  within  him  at  the  time  of 
its  greatest  influence,  and  strives  to  overcome  it  and 
gain  the  victory." 

"  Christ  tells  us  that  the  way  of  life  is  narrow,  and 
that  few  find  it.  But  we  are  commonly  told  that  it  is 
very  uncharitable  to  suppose  that  any  but  decided 
malefactors  will  not  enter  heaven.  How  wide,  then, 
must  be  the  way,  and  how  many  find  it ! " 

"  The  man  of  the  world  comes  to  me  and  talks  of  the 
comfort  I  must  find  in  Religion  ;  that  God  will  strengthen 
me,  perhaps.  It  is  an  abstract  assertion,  quite  true 
indeed,  but  could  give  me  no  comfort  in  itself.  The 
Christian  talks  to  me  of  God's  love  in  Christ,  and  we 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  267 

dwell  on  the  Saviour's  love  till  our  hearts  burn  within 
us,  and  till  the  full  depth  of  present  suffering  seems 
light  in  comparison  of  the  glory  to  come.  The  one 
looks  as  a  spectator  on  a  scene  in  which  he  bears  no 
part,  the  other  as  a  fellow-actor  in  a  reality  of  which  he 
is  sharing  both  the  joy  and  the  trials." 

"'We  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight.'  In  these  days  we 
walk  by  sights  not  by  faith.  In  all  our  dealings  with 
each  other  this  is  evidently  the  case :  a  reason  must  be 
given,  a  proof  shown  of  every  act  and  every  opinion ;  it 
must  be  demonstrated  to  us  that  our  friend  is  right  in  a 
tangible  form,  by  some  actual  experience,  before  we  will 
take  it  for  granted.  Again,  in  education,  the  appeal  is 
made  to  the  senses,  not  to  the  reasoning  powers:  a 
child  is  taught  numbers  not  by  an  act  of  the  mind,  but 
by  perception  of  the  eye." 

"We  feel  opprest  when  kindness  after  kindness  is 
poured  in  upon  us  by  man,  and  no  opportunity  presents 
itself  of  rendering  any  return.  Would  that  we  were 
equally  moved  by  receiving  benefits  from  God,  and 
yielding  him  no  token  of  thanks." 

"  The  poor  copies  of  Christ's  life,  which  are  presented 
to  us  even  in  the  lives  of  the  most  sincere  Christians, 
resemble  the  copies  of  good  pictures  made  by  little 
children.  The  proportions  are  all  faulty,  and  the  colors 
do  not  blend  together.  There  is  a  likeness,  but  so  im- 
perfect a  one,  that  we  must  not  take  pattern  by  the 
copy,  but  ascend  up  to  the  original  and  study  its  every 
feature,  there,  where  alone  it  is  perfect." 


268  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

"  It  is  much  easier  to  catch  hold  of  and  imitate  the 
infirmities  attendant  on  the  virtues  of  others,  than  to 
follow  the  simple  grace  itself ;  and  often  the  two  are  so 
closely  associated  in  our  minds  that  we  cannot  distin- 
guish them." 

"  The  same  pencil  is  hard  upon  one  paper,  and  soft 
upon  another.  How  is  this  ?  Does  the  pencil  change  ? 
We  see  clearly  here  how  the  effect  varies  according  to 
the  substance  on  which  the  pencil  acts.  And  equally 
certain  is  it  that  the  seed,  which  is  the  Word  of  God, 
though  unchangeable  in  its  own  nature,  produces  differ- 
ent results,  according  to  the  soil  of  the  heart  into  which 
it  falls.  Yet  many  seem  to  think  only  one  impression 
can  be  produced,  and  that  all  others  must  be  wholly 
false. 

"  It  is  as  if  one  ray  of  the  sun  alone  were  the  real  one, 
and  all  other  rays  a  delusion.  Truly,  God's  thoughts 
are  not  as  man's  thoughts.  How  wondrous  are  the 
riches  and  variety  of  his  works  and  ways." 

"  I  should  like  to  add  a  word  to  one  of  the  petitions 
in  the  Litany,  saying,  *  Forgive  us  our  sins,  negligences, 
ignorances,  and  prejudices.''  How  many  wrong  thoughts 
of  others,  false  estimates  of  things,  and  self-delusions, 
are  the  result  of  prejudices  formed  hastily,  or  from  some 
bias  of  feeling,  from  drawing  conclusions  on  insufficient 
knowledge,  or  too  great  confidence  in  our  own  judg- 
ment." 

"  Some  good  people  seem  to  think  that  because  self- 
sacrifice  is  a  noble  thing,  every  thing  in  which  self 
is  a  sacrifice  must  be  good  and  right.  But  our  views 
of  sacrifice,  like  all  others,  are  often  dim  and  confused. 


HURSTMONCEAUX   RECTORY.  269 

Sometimes  self  is  sacrificed  most  where  it  may  appear 
to  be  giving  up  least,  and  sacrificed  least  when  it  seems 
to  be  giving  up  most." 

"  In  the  Prayer  Book  we  speak  to  God,  in  the  Bible 
God  speaks  to  us ;  yet  in  these  days  how  many  exalt  the 
one  to  an  equality  with  the  other,  who  would  cry  out  if 
accused  of  making  the  voice  of  man  of  equal  authority 
with  that  of  God." 

"  In  old  days  there  was  a  simple  and  plain  notion  of 
duty  which  was  instilled  into  children,  and  acted  on  by 
men.  Nowadays  every  such  act  is  considered  in  the 
light  of  a  sacrifice,  and  acquires  thereby  insensibly  the 
garb  of  a  merit,  so  that,  if  it  is  not  fully  recognized, 
or  is  fruitless,  there  is  disappointment,  and  a  feeling  of 
having  made  the  sacrifice  in  vain. 

"  Those  who  make  these  sacrifices  are  held  up  to 
admiration  and  praise,  while  such  as  do  not  appear  thus 
to  give  up  any  thing  for  others  are  looked  upon  as  self- 
ish and  worldly.  But  in  this,  as  in  all  other  things, 
Satan  is  busy  to  intermeddle  and  deceive.  Often,  in  the 
unobserved,  silent  performance  of  duty,  which  is  felt 
to  be  the  natural  and  proper  element  of  life,  where  no 
thought  of  a  self  to  be  given  up  has  place,  and  no  alter- 
native of  self-pleasing  comes  into  the  mind,  more  of  the 
real  spirit  of  Christ  dwells,  and  the  fruit  of  peace  is  more 
visible,  where  nothing  is  expected,  no  disappointment 
felt." 

Lucy  Anne  Hare  to  Miss  Clinton. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  Nov.  25,   1834. — You  will  be  as 
glad  to  hear  from  me  from  this  place  as  I  am  to  write 


27O  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

to  you  from  it.  I  am  more  satisfied  about  Maria  since 
I  came.  She  is  very  weak,  but  she  looks  so  well,  so 
bright,  so  cheerful,  I  cannot  think  there  is  any  thing 
materially  wrong  j  but  we  must  wait  for  time  to  restore 
strength  to  a  frame  which  has  been  so  much  shaken. 
She  lies  on  the  sofa  all  day,  and  Julius  watches  over 
her  with  the  tender  care  of  a  mother  over  a  darling 
child.  You  may  guess  how  much  we  talk,  how  happy 
we  are  again  together.  It  is  like  a  dream  being  here, 
the  spot  which  in  our  earlier  visions  was  to  be  the  Alton. 
It  is  a  bleak-looking  country,  but  not  ugly  even  at  this 
season ;  and  there  is  something  very  beautiful  and 
peaceful  in  the  church  and  churchyard  standing  on  the 
hill  overlooking  the  wide  campagna,  with  the  sea  beyond. 
I  have  been  over  the  castle,  and  been  shown  the  scenes 
of  many  of  Marcus's  early  plays  and  recollections. 
This  house  is  beautiful  with  books  and  pictures,  and 
the  bright  conservatory  communicating  with  the  draw- 
ing-room and  study.  Maria  lies  in  the  former,  with 
Bunsen's  perfect  bust  opposite,  and  the  Raphael  on  her 
right.  I  have  driven  past  her  home  that  is  to  be ;  it 
stands  very  conveniently  for  the  church  and  school,  and 
many  cottages  near,  and  there  are  good  open  fields  and 
walks  to  the  back,  and  a  wide  extended  view.  Julius 
and  Mr.  Sterling  have  been  very  busy  establishing  a 
Sunday  school,  and  you  would  have  been  delighted  to 
see  the  teachers  —  all  grown  men,  laborers  and  farmers 
—  giving  their  whole  hearts  to  the  work ;  they  come 
voluntarily,  for  no  pay,  and  attend  regularly." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hark* 

"  Stoke,  Dec.  15,  1834.  —  Here  I  am  once  more  in  my 
father's  house.     The  first  two  days  I  seemed  to  see  Au- 


HURSTMONCEAUX   RECTORY.  27 1 

gustus's  vacant  chair,  and  hear  his  voice  in  every  room. 
When  I  open  my  Bible  I  can  hardly  turn  to  any  part  but 
those  chapters  of  St.  John  we  read  in  Greek  together. 
When  I  look  out  on  the  well-known  view  I  can  hardly 
give  you  any  idea  of  the  degree  in  which  it  appears  to 
me  as  a  picture  of  past  days,  a  scene  seen  through  a 
glass,  with  which  I  have  no  connection,  and  which  has 
no  reality.  It  gives  me  no  pain  j  and  I  look  on  Hodnet 
Rectory  and  the  Hawkestone  Woods  with  a  deadened 
feeling  of  consciousness  that  all  has  passed  away  that 
once  gave  them  life,  but  with  scarcely  any  feeling  that  I 
am  a  sufferer  by  it.  .  .  .  The  prevailing  feeling  I  have 
at  present  is  always  not  how  much  I  have  suffered,  but 
what  shall  I  render  to  God  for  all  the  exceeding  mercies 
with  which  He  has  loaded  me." 

"Jan.  17,  1835.  —  My  dear  Luce,  this  was  the  day 
we  reached  Rome :  how  different  from  this  one  !  I  look 
out  now  on  a  snowy  world,  and  feel  myself  within  a 
poor  and  solitary  Mia,  whose  happiness  would  be  for 
ever  gone  had  not  God  of  his  exceeding  mercy  given 
me  to  prefer  Jerusalem  above  my  chief  joy,  —  yes,  even 
above  my  Augustus,  —  my  Alton.  Then,  how  I  suffered 
from  the  heat,  from  the  anxiety,  hourly  increasing  anx- 
iety ;  but  the  end  and  hope  of  our  journey  was  before 
us.  At  the  extremity  of  the  plain  rose  up  St.  Peter's, 
and  recollections  of  the  eternal  city  were  swallowed  up 
in  the  sight  of  Augustus's  birthplace,  in  the  hope  of  his 
restoration,  —  alas  !  in  how  little  anticipation  of  his  heav- 
enward flight.  Every  day,  every  hour  of  the  next  month, 
will  come  before  me  as  vividly  as  if  it  were  yesterday ; 
but  it  is  only  to  make  me  bow  with  deeper  thankfulness, 
and  more  entire  submission  to  Him  who  has  so  led  me 
through  the  deep  waters  without  allowing  them  to  over- 


2J2  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

whelm  me.  You  will  easily  guess  that  now,  when  we 
are  the  original  Stoke  trio  once  more,  when  I  have  no 
outward  thing  to  hide  from  me  the  bare  reality  of  his 
absence,  I  feel  more  sensibly  than  I  have  ever  yet  done 
that  on  this  earth  I  am  alone  ;  and  yet  never  did  I  feel 
more  truly  that  I  am  not  alone,  since  Emmanuel  him- 
self, '  God  with  us,'  has  been  made  known  to  me  in  all 
His  power." 

"Feb.  21. — 'In  all  their  affliction  He  was  afflicted, 
and  the  angel  of  his  presence  saved  them :  in  his  love 
and  his  pity  He  redeemed  them,  and  bare  them  all 
the  days  of  old.'  These  words  were  my  comforters  on 
the  1 8th,  the  words  with  which  I  strove  to  cast  off  the 
strong  and  painful  recollection  of  the  last  struggles  of 
a  departing  spirit,  and  look  up  to  Him  who  then  in  that 
hour  of  first  desolation,  no  less  than  through  a  whole 
widowed  year,  has  '  looked  down  on  me  and  had  com- 
passion.' ...  It  is  so  blessed  a  privilege  to  roll  all  one's 
cares  over  on  God,  to  know  that  He  will  watch  over 
those  that  love  Him,  that  not  one  drop  will  be  added  to 
the  cup  beyond  what  is  good  and  wholesome.  My  song 
of  praise  on  that  first  morning  of  my  widowhood  (Ps. 
xviii.  14  to  the  end)  has  been  truly  mine  through  this 
year.  May  I  be  graciously  permitted  to  sing  it  with  in- 
creasing earnestness,  to  feel  the  'Head  Stone  of  the 
corner '  more  and  more  truly  my  refuge  and  dependence, 
till  I  may  sing  it  in  the  heavenly  Jerusalem  with  him 
who  is  now  rejoicing  in  all  the  fulness  of  joy.  You  need 
not  fear  for  my  health :  I  am  creeping  on  by  very  slow 
degrees,  and  in  his  own  good  time  my  Heavenly  Father 
will  give  me  such  a  portion  of  ease  and  comfort  as  He 
sees  good  for  me,  to  do  the  work  He  has  for  me.  May 
I  only  be  faithful  in  his  service,  and  count  all  loss  but 


HURSTMONCEAUX   RECTORY.  273 

the  furthering  his  glory  and  being  conformed  to  his 
image.  I  know  now  how  little  I  believe,  how  weak  is 
my  faith,  how  much  I  lack  of  humility  and  Christian 
love  j  and  I  know  that  I  can  no  more  rest  on  myself  for 
one  moment  than  the  tottering  babe  can  let  go  of  its 
mother's  hand.  But  I  am  ambitious  !  I  do  desire  to  ad- 
vance far  along  the  road  I  have  now  only  entered,  and 
to  draw  many  along  with  me.  Still  the  flesh  is  weak 
though  the  spirit  is  willing,  and  at  present  I  can  only 
suffer  and  endure." 

Julius  Hare  to  Rev.  F.  Blackstone. 

"  Hurstmo?iceaux,  December  5,  1834.  —  I  rejoice  to 
say  that  my  widowed  sister,  who  has  been  spending  the 
summer  and  autumn  with  me,  has  resolved  to  fix  her 
home  in  this  parish.  It  is  the  greatest  blessing  which, 
after  so  irreparable  a  loss,  could  have  befallen  me  ;  and 
my  parishioners  too  will  all  find  it  a  blessing  to  them. 
She  lives  in  heaven  with  him  who  is  gone  before  her ; 
but  is  contented  to  wait  with  patience  till  God  in  his 
own  time  shall  think  fit  to  reunite  her  to  him." 

Maria  Hare  to  Miss  Hibbert. 

"  Stoke  Rectory,  December  24,  1834.  —  Your  letter,  my 
dearest  Laetitia,  came  when  I  was  on  the  point  of  leav- 
ing Hurstmonceaux,  and  the  subsequent  journey  here, 
and  the  rest  necessary  since  I  arrived,  has  prevented  my 
writing  sooner.  But  I  will  delay  it  no  longer,  as  I  find 
it  always  needful  to  take  the  opportunity  now  of  seizing 
any  hour  of  wellness  to  do  what  I  wish  to  do ;  feeling  so 
uncertain  of  its  continuance.  Were  it  not  for  the  all- 
sustaining  arm  of  my  Redeemer  and  my  God,  for  the 
gracious  answers  He  vouchsafes  to  my  unworthy  prayers, 
12*  R 


274  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

I  should  be  weaker  than  the  weakest ;  for  it  is  always 
forgotten  by  those  who  so  set  up  the  natural  strength  of 
character,  that  along  with  it  goes  also  a  natural  strength 
of  feeling  that  requires  even  a  greater  degree  of  super- 
natural strength  than  a  mind  weaker  in  itself.  When, 
when  will  people  learn  to  give  glory  to  God  in  the  High- 
est! My  dear  Laetitia,  I  have  now,  as  you  "know,  been 
ten  months  in  the  greatest  of  all  human  afflictions  ;  for 
the  last  five  months  I  have  been  constantly  ill  and  ex- 
tremely weak ;  all  resources  of  active  life  have  been 
entirely  cut  off,  my  longings  to  benefit  others  —  first  the 
poor  and  afterwards  my  own  family  —  by  leading  them 
in  the  right  way,  have  been  entirely  prevented,  and  I 
have  been  forced  to  give  up  one  attempt  after  another 
at  exertion  both  of  body  and  mind  ;  and  yet  I  can  most 
truly  say  that  never  has  my  abiding  peace,  nay,  even 
happiness,  deserted  me.  *  The  shadow  of  a  great  rock 
in  a  weary  land '  has  been  over  me.  He  who  has  prom- 
ised to  comfort,  even  as  a  mother  comforteth  her  child, 
has  comforted  and  refreshed  me.  My  connection  in- 
deed with  this  earth  does  seem  altogether  rent  asunder, 
and  all  around  me  even  here,  where  there  is  so  much  to 
remind  me  of  the  past,  appears  like  a  dream,  a  picture 
that  I  can  look  at,  now  the  first  shock  is  over,  almost 
without  emotion.  My  real  life  is  that  hidden  one  with 
Christ  in  God  which  is  a  never-failing  well-spring 
of  delight;  and  though  in  proportion  as  my  health 
enables  me  to  return  more  to  the  usual  routine  of  daily 
life  and  society,  the  struggle  must  be  greater  to  preserve 
the  spiritual  joy  and  peace  that  can  support  me  under 
the  earthly  privation,  I  have  found  constant  and  earnest 
prayer  so  effectual,  my  God  so  faithful,  so  tender  in 
mercy  and  loving-kindness,  that  I  feel  as  if  it  would  be 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  275 

the  height  of  ingratitude,  the  most  inexcusable  want  of 
faith,  were  I  for  one  moment  to  doubt  that  He  will  bear 
me  up  unto  the  end,  and  that  He  will  never  give  me  one 
trial  or  struggle  more  than  is  fit  for  me.  My  prevailing 
feeling  on  returning  here  is  not  how  much  I  have  suf- 
fered, but  how  much  mercy  I  have  received  during  the 
past  year.  To  have  the  gulf  removed  that  separated  me 
from  God,  to  feel  that  union  as  of  a  branch  in  the  Vine, 
makes  all  suffering  appear  light,  since  it  is  his  will,  — 
since  by  it  we  may  be  more  closely  conformed  to  his 
image  who  was  made  perfect  through  suffering.  Were  it 
not  for  this,  were  it  not  for  the  unspeakable  joy  of  feeling 
that  Jesus  came  at  this  time  to  be  my  Saviour,  to  buy  for 
me  an  inheritance  undefiled,  there  where  my  beloved 
and  angel  one  is  now  rejoicing  before  his  throne,  how 
could  I  bear  the  remembrance  of  those  Christmas  sea- 
sons we  spent  together  at  Alton,  so  blessed  in  every 
earthly  happiness  ?  How  could  I  support  the  recollec- 
tion of  last  year's  watching  by  him  at  Genoa  ?  The  glad 
tidings,  mingled  as  they  are  with  such  thoughts,  come 
with  a  chastened  and  sober  joy ;  but  it  is  such  as  is 
most  meet  for  the  waiting  Christian,  who  has  yet  to  bear 
the  burden  of  sin,  and  is  not  yet  permitted  to  taste  fully 
the  glory  that  is  to  be  revealed.  Much  as  it  has 
been  given  me  to  feel  of  spiritual  joy  and  love,  doubt- 
less to  lighten  that  weight  of  earthly  sorrow  that  would 
otherwise  have  been  too  heavy  for  me  to  bear,  I  feel  sure 
the  safest  and  surest  state  for  one  travelling  along  the 
ordinary  path  of  life,  must  be  one  of  quiet  and  confiding 
dependence  on  the  Saviour's  strength  and  simple  obe- 
dience to  his  will,  whether  of  doing  or  suffering.  I 
asked  earnestly  for  strength  to  be  given  to  me  for  going 
once  more  to  Alton,  which  appeared  almost  impossible 


276  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

at  the  time  :  it  was  granted.  From  the  time  I  besought 
restoration  of  health  to  enable  me  to  get  here,  which  had 
been  delayed  from  week  to  week,  it  was  given.  I  men- 
tion these  to  strengthen  your  faith,  which  you  say  is 
weak.  Of  course  temporal  gifts  must  be  altogether-  sub- 
mitted to  his  fatherly  knowledge  and  wisdom,  but  we 
must  not  be  afraid  of  making  all  our  requests  known  to 
such  a  Friend." 

To  the  Same. 

"Stoke,  Jan.  29,  1835.  —  *  nave  tm?s  morning  seen  in 
the  paper  that  your  house  is  become  a  house  of  mourn- 
ing. I  know  none  of  the  particulars  attending  your 
affliction,  and  am  therefore  altogether  ignorant  of  the 
peculiar  consolations  or  trials  with  which  it  is  accom- 
panied. But  the  loss  to  you  of  a  parent,  to  your  beloved 
mother  of  a  husband,  is  one  of  so  serious  a  nature  that, 
with  the  feelings  of  a  fellow-mourner,  I  cannot  rest  till  I 
have  poured  out  to  you  something  of  that  comfort  with 
which  I  have  myself  been  comforted.  I  know  indeed 
most  truly  how  powerless  human  comfort  is :  that  there 
is  One  alone  who  at  such  seasons  can  arise  with  healing 
on  his  wings ;  still  the  voice  of  a  sister  in  sorrow,  a 
sister  in  Christian  hope,  cannot  be  unacceptable.  You 
will  already  have  felt  the  exceeding  mercy  that  allows 
us  in  such  heaviness  of  heart  to  go  boldly  to  the  throne 
of  grace ;  you  are,  I  doubt  not,  daily  experiencing  the 
blessedness  of  that  refuge  from  the  storm  provided  for 
us  in  Him  who  was  made  perfect  through  suffering,  and 
who,  having  been  touched  with  our  infirmities,  knows  . 
so  truly  the  weakness  of  his  poor  children,  and  how 
utterly  inefficient  their  own  efforts  would  be,  without  his 
strengthening  grace.     It  is  only,  I  am  persuaded,  by  an 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  277 

entire  and  full  renunciation  of  our  own  wills,  a  child-like 
submission  to  his  loving  though  chastening  hand,  that 
we  can  find  peace  and  rest  for  our  souls.  And  even  if 
all  appears  dead  and  gloomy,  even  though  there  may  not 
be  that  sensible  comfort,  that  precious  hope  which  is 
sometimes  vouchsafed  to  cheer  and  lighten  our  path  of 
sorrow,  it  is  still  the  Lord  that  doth  it,  and  most  surely 
will  He  do  as  seemeth  unto  Him  good.  Our  views  are 
short-sighted  and  earthly  and  narrow;  we  see  little 
beyond  our  own  little  world  of  hopes  and  fears,  but  He 
who  is  Lord  of  all  knoweth  all  the  breadth  and  length 
and  depth  and  height  of  wisdom  and  of  love,  and  will 
appoint  all  things  for  his  glory.  He  can  make  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  those  that  love  Him,  and  will 
doubtless,  by  means  of  this  trial  of  your  faith,  renew 
your  strength  and  lead  you  to  a  more  steadfast  and 
abiding  hope  of  glory.  I  have  found  the  greatest  com- 
fort in  those  passages  where  we  are  exhorted  not  hence- 
forward to  live  to  ourselves,  but  for  Him  who  died  and 
rose  again ;  by  keeping  ever  in  mind  that  we  are  not 
our  own,  but  bought  with  a  price,  and  therefore  all  our 
aim,  our  desire,  our  joy,  should  be  to  glorify  God  with 
body  and  spirit,  since  they  are  God's,  not  ours." 

Maria  Hare  ("The  Green  Book"). 

"Feb.  18,  1835.  —  Where,  where  does  the  spirit  flee 
when  the  earthly  tabernacle  is  left  vacant,  and  all  that 
was  the  living,  the  enduring  part  has  departed?  I 
suppose  it  has  been  asked  and  sought  vainly  and  un- 
ceasingly since  first  the  sorrowing  mourner  saw  before 
him  the  earthly  form  of  what  he  loved  as  all  that 
remained,  and  still  the  mind  will  strive  to  follow  the 
heavenward  flight,  and  wish  and  long  to  pierce  the  thick 


2^8  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

gloom.  My  Augustus,  —  dearest!  most  beloved!  how 
could  I  have  watched  your  last  moments,  heard  the  last 
sigh  and  lived  on,  if  the  precious  certainty  had  not  been 
mine  that  your  blessed  spirit  had  left  me  only  to  join  its 
God.  This  is  truly  a  release,  —  a  release  from  the  im- 
prisonment of  a  frail  and  suffering  shell,  from  the  con- 
tinual struggle  of  a  renewed  soul  seeking  to  cast  off  sin 
and  be  one  with  God,  to  the  power  of  soaring  up  un- 
fettered and  purified  to  the  presence  of  its  Saviour,  to 
feel  in  all  its  reality  how  far  better  it  is  to  be  '  absent 
from  the  body  and  present  with  the  Lord.'  To  you, 
time  is  done  away,  and  one  year  is  a  measure  empty  of 
meaning  j  to  me,  too,  time  is  in  one  sense  no  longer 
real.  I  cannot  love  you  less,  nor  sorrow  for  you  less, 
nor  feel  less  strongly  the  entire  loneliness  of  this  earth 
in  which  I  live,  though  years  should  be  added  to  years. 
But  time  is  still  to  me  a  precious,  a  responsible  gift ;  it 
is  a  talent  to  be  used  in  a  daily  increasing  conformity  to 
the  mind  of  Him  who  hath  bought  me  for  his  own,  in  a 
continually  renewed  crucifixion  of  my  own  will  and  sub- 
mission to  his  ;  in  an  ever-growing  desire  and  endeavor 
to  glorify  my  God  j  and  if,  through  means  of  all  the 
suffering  I  must  yet  go  through,  and  the  long  patience 
with  which  I  may  yet  have  to  wait  before  that  blessed 
time  when  'Thy  welcome  call  at  last  is  given,'  I  am 
called  to  minister  to  the  spiritual  wants  of  others,  —  if  I 
may  be  strengthened  to  advance  through  much  tribula- 
tion to  a  higher  degree  of  union  with  Christ,  why  should 
my  faint  heart  be  discouraged  or  cast  down,  since  I 
know  *  my  labor  is  not  in  vain  j '  that  '  he  that  endureth 
to  the  end  shall  receive  the  crown  of  life '  ? 

"  Death  is  not  the  end  but  the  beginning  of  life.     On 
this  day  my  Augustus  began  his  heavenly,  his  real  life. 


HURSTMONCEAUX   RECTORY.  279 

O  gracious,  merciful  Father,  make  me  Thy  true  child, 
Thy  faithful  servant,  as  he  was.  Give  me  a  firm  and 
lasting  hope  on  the  same  Rock  of  salvation,  and  lead  me 
as  my  good  and  gracious  Shepherd  through  the  dark 
valley  as  peacefully  and  gently  as  Thou  hast  led  him, 
and  finally  receive  me  also  to  Thyself.  And  oh,  may  I 
lean  ever  on  Thy  guiding  hand  through  the  wilderness 
of  this  world,  that  I  may  not  fall,  and  that,  be  the 
pressure  of  trouble  and  sorrow  what  it  may,  the  presence 
of  my  Lord  and  Saviour  may  ever  enlighten  and  cheer 
my  darkness.'*" 

Maria  Hare  (1834-36.     Notes  for  Julius  Hare's  Life). 

"At  the  close  of  1834  and  beginning  of  1835,  it 
became  evident  to  Julius  that  his  beloved  friend  and 
curate,  Mr.  Sterling,  must  give  up  his  labors  from  ill- 
health.  He  was  therefore  now  for  some  months  alone 
in  his  work.  His  letters  of  this  period  show  the  in- 
creased earnestness  and  diligence  with  which  he  followed 
it.  He  was,  however,  frequently  cast  down  by  his  deep 
sense  of  his  own  insufficiency,  and  the  worthlessness  of 
his  ministrations  amongst  his  people.  His  Cambridge 
life  had  not  fitted  him  for  intercourse  with  the  poor,  and, 
with  the  tenderest  sympathy  with  their  distresses,  he 
hardly  as  yet  knew  how  to  Soothe  or  elevate  them  by 
higher  thoughts,  so  that  it  was  the  saying  of  some  whom 
he  visited,  — '  Mr.  Hare  is  so  kind,  he  looks  so  sorry, 
but  —  he  does  not  say  much.'  It  was  reserved  for  his 
people  to  teach  him  much  of  the  simplicity  of  scriptural 
truth.  Especially  was  he  taught  by  the  heavenly-minded 
Phillis  Hoad,  whose  death  gave  rise  to  a  funeral  ser- 
mon, one  of.  the  most  eloquent  and  impressive  he  ever 
preached.     At  this  time  also  he  was  engaged  in  arrang- 


280  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

ing  and  revising  for  the  press  the  sermons  of  his  brother 
Augustus,  and  the  carefulness  with  which  he  carried  out 
this  work  brought  with  it  its  own  reward,  in  giving  him 
a  stimulus  in  adapting  his  own  style  to  the  wants  of  a 
rural  congregation.  Although  his  thoughts  could  not 
always  be  restrained  within  these  limits,  whatever  in  his 
subsequent  sermons  was  popular  in  style  and  familiar 
in  illustration  may  be  in  great  measure  traced  to  the 
brotherly  type  he  followed,  and  to  which  he  ever  ex- 
pressed his  obligation.  It  was  in  this  year  that  he 
preached  his  first  visitation  sermon  on,  '  Lo,  I  am  with 
you  always,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world.'  How  dis- 
trustful he  felt  in  undertaking  the  office  of  preaching 
before  the  clergy,  how  he  dreaded  it  beforehand,  and 
how  much  encouragement  he  received  from  its  effect, 
may  be  seen  from  his  account  of  it.  It  was  at  this 
period  that  the  new  Poor  Law  came  into  operation, 
and  so  much  opposition  was  raised  to  it,  that  he  felt 
bound  to  do  all  he  could  to  lighten  its  bondage  and 
restrain  its  hardships  on  the  poor  of  his  parish.  Con- 
sequently he  became  guardian  of  the  Hailsham  Union. 
For  hours  would  he  sit  each  week  on  the  appointed 
day  at  the  board,  endeavoring  to  moderate  or  direct  the 
uncultivated  and  often  illiberal  men,  with  whom  he  had 
to  work.  His  pen  was  the  one  to  write  whatever  state- 
ments or  petitions  were  required,  and,  with  little  knowl- 
edge of  details  familiar  to  others,  he,  by  refined  feeling 
and  Christian  piety,  was  often  able  to  soften  the  severity 
of  the  law.  But,  in  spite  of  these  exertions,  and  his 
well-known  tenderness  of  heart,  such  was  the  prejudice 
against  the  change  in  the  law,  that  all  manner  of  evil 
reports  were  circulated  concerning  him,  —  amongst  other 
things  he  was  accused  of  intending  to   send  •  all   the 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  28 1 

children  of  the  parish  workhouse  out  in  a  boat,  to  be 
sunk  in  Pevensey  Bay ! 

"But  at  length  these  foolish  calumnies  died  away, 
and  a  permanent  influence  remained  with  the  farmers, 
with  whom  his  intercourse  had  then  begun.  In  every 
vestry  and  parish  meeting  he  was  also  present  to  con- 
trol and  regulate  the  measures  suggested.  In  spite  of 
the  habitual  unpunctuality  and  irregularity  of  his  private 
life,  he  never  failed  in  his  attendance  at  these  public 
meetings,  whatever  the  annoyance  or  inconvenience 
might  be. 

"  Another  mode  in  which  he  both  served  the  parish 
and  learnt  to  know  the  wants  of  his  people,  at  this  time, 
was  by  receiving  every  Sunday,  after  evening  church, 
the  pence  for  the  clothing  club.  However  tired  by  the 
services  of  the  day,  and  by  attendance  at  the  boys' 
school,  hfc  sate  in  the  vestry  surrounded  by  his  parish- 
ioners, entering  their  weekly  subscriptions  in  a  book, 
and  receiving  their  money.  Often  was  this  the  oppor- 
tunity for  their  pouring  their  distresses  into  his  ear,  and 
seeking  relief  which  was  surely  given.  'Ask,  and  ye 
shall  receive,'  was  truly  fulfilled  in  him,  —  an  earthly 
illustration  to  the  higher  form  of  loving  answer  to 
prayer  promised  in  those  words." 

Notes  by  Miss  Miller  (during  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Hare 
at  Corsley.) 

"  Corsley,  June  6,  1835.  —  When  in  my  whole  life  have 
I  spent  such  a  happy  day  ?  I  wish  I  had  strength  and 
time  to  mention  every  word  and  particular.  After  break- 
fast, I  walked  with  my  Mrs.  Hare  in  the  fields,  talking 
of  him  we  both  loved,  and  of  the  many  words  and  things 
we  both  remembered  his  saying  and  doing  while  with 


282  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

us  on  earth.  At  two,  I  drove  her  in  the  pony-carriage 
through  much  lovely  scenery  to  Longleat.  The  exces- 
sive heat  tried  her  strength  rather  too  much,  but  her 
words  I  hope  to  remember  through  eternity.  Beauti- 
fully did  she  spiritualize  all  nature's  striking  objects, 
remarking  once  when  we  entered  a  thick  grove  of  trees, 
which  shaded  us  from  the  rays  of  the  burning  sun, 
1  This,  refreshing  as  it  is,  gives  us  but  a  very  faint  idea 
of  the  shadow  of  that  great  Rock  in  a  weary  land.' 
And  again,  'We  who  live  in  a  land  so  mercifully  sup- 
plied with  water  cannot  fully  enter  into  the  figurative 
Scripture  language  of  "streams  found  in  a  desert,"  — 
of  the  invitation,  "  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,"  as  the 
eastern  nations  may  j  but  in  a  little  time  we  shall  know 
the  true  meaning  of  the  streams  of  the  living  water,  and 
the  fountain,  of  life,  where  we  shall  drink  of  them  and 
never  thirst  again.'  For  my  sake  she  kindly  entered  on 
her  own  experience,  desired  to  know  my  every  thought, 
my  chief  trials,  my  weakest  points,  to  make  her  useful- 
ness greater  to  me.  She  spoke  of  her  own  advantages, 
natural  and  spiritual,  with  almost  heavenly  humility,  at 
the  same  time  feeling  that  from  her  much  would  be  re- 
quired, because  much  had  been  bestowed.  She  referred 
to  her  blessed  time  at  Alton,  believing  that  it  was  a 
season  of  education  for  her  soul,  to  fit  her  for  future  use- 
fulness in  God's  vineyard ;  and  that  the  close  union  of 
thought,  interest,  and  pursuit  with  a  mind  of  no  common 
mould,  had  given  a  premature  maturity  to  her  own,  for 
which  she  felt  responsible  to  God,  desiring  to  use  it  to 
his  glory.  She  remarked  that  after  her  return  from  Rome, 
after  having  been  for  so  many  months  deprived  of  earthly 
Christian  communion,  when  she  again  enjoyed  it,  it 
almost  seemed  to  unspiritualize  her,  so  clearly  and  con- 


HURSTMONCEAUX    RECTORY.  283 

stantly  had  her  soul  rested  on  God  alone,  while  travel- 
ling alone  in  her  carriage  with  only  Mary  and  her  Bible. 
I  seem  almost  now  to  see  the  ascent  where  she  so  ten- 
derly and  lovingly  advised  me  for  my  good,  hoping  the 
joy  I  found  in  my  visit  would  only  accomplish  the  end 
she  had  in  view,  the  strengthening  me  for  a  more  dili- 
gent discharge  of  home  duties,  and  not  lead  to  any  sin- 
ful regrets  at  my  separation  from  her.  .  .  . 

"  Whit- Sunday,  June  7.  —  My  heart  seems  too  full  to 
write  of  this  day,  when  I  have  parted  from  my  friend. 
...  At  church  we  had  the  comfort  of  kneeling  to- 
gether at  the  blessed  table,  which  my  beloved  Mrs.  Hare 
had  not  done  in  a  church  since  the  Sunday  before  she 
left  Alton  for  Rome.  How  very  singular  that  Mrs.  Mar- 
cus Hare  and  I  should  again  be  with  her.  ...  In  the 
evening,  the  hearts  of  those  around  me  seemed  to  have 
been  touched  by  a  '  live  coal '  from  off  the  morning's 
altar ;  and  I  cannot  describe  the  rich  spirituality  of  all 
that  was  said,  nearer  akin  to  heavenly  converse  than 
any  thing  I  have  before  met  with.  Before  tea,  I  had  my 
parting  walk  with  dearest  Mrs.  Hare.  She  leant  on  my 
arm,  giving  me  the  sweetest  counsel  with  the  most 
Christian  love ;  and  oh  !  what  a  blessed  union  is  this 
Christian  fellowship,  thus  uniting  high  and  low  in  one 
common  bond,  levelling  all  distinctions  in  regard  to 
acceptance  with  God,  and  yet  maintaining,  perhaps  in- 
creasing outwardly,  the  respect  which  one  loves  to  give 
to  those  whom  God  has  placed  in  situations  so  much 
above  us,  and  endowed  with  attainments  so  far  superior. 
She  talked  of  many  at  Alton,  and  of  their  three  succes- 
sive ministers.  She  then  left  me  in  the  garden  for  a 
time,  and  I  went  to  her  later  in  her  room,  where,  with 
many  tears,  I  received  a  little  book  from  her,  and  sev- 


284  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE.    • 

eral  books  and  letters  for  the  Alton  people.  We  then 
knelt  in  prayer ;  and  she  affectionately  commended  me 
to  God,  and  gave  me  her  parting  blessing."  .  .  . 

Maria  Hare  to  Rev.  F.  Blackstone. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  July  21, 183  5. —  .  .  .  I  know  Mrs. 
Blackstone's  motherly  heart  will  be  interested  in  hearing 
that  I  have  adopted  one  of  Francis  Hare's  children,  a 
little  Augustus,  born  at  Rome  a  fortnight  after  our  sep- 
aration, and  in  another  month  I  hope  to  have  him  under 
my  care,  as  I  am  sending  out  a  nurse  to  fetch  him  from 
Germany,  whither  his  father  escorts  him." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare 

"  Hurstmonceaux  Rectory,  August  26,  1835.  —  My 
own  Luce  will  bless  God  who  has  given  a  little  Au- 
gustus to  me,  —  a  dear  little  immortal  creature  to  train 
up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord ;  and  she 
will,  I  know,  pray  that  I  may  be  enabled  to  look  upon 
it  rather  as  a  loan  than  a  gift,  and  to  be  ready  to 
resign  what  is  lent  when  He  sees  fit.  At  four  o'clock 
yesterday,  the  carriage  wheels  were  heard,  but  Julius  and 
I  listened,  and  all  was  silent,  till  a  cry  from  upstairs 
made  me  rush  up.  The  heavy  rain  had  wet  them,  and 
they  had  crept  up  the  backstairs.  On  going  into  the 
room,  there  the  baby  sate  on  Mary's  knee,  with  his  frock 
already  off,  smiling  so  winningly  that,  having  expected 
to  be  greeted  by  a  cry  at  the  sight  of  the  strange  face, 
it  was  a  great  comfort  to  be  met  so  cordially.  ...  As 
soon  as  he  was  dressed  I  brought  him  down,  and  his 
delight  in  seeing  the  pictures  was  very  great.  Then  he 
ran  about  the  passage,  and  went  into  each  room,  look- 
ing round  with  an  air  of  observation  which  was  most 


HURSTMONCEAUX   RECTORY.  285 

amusing.  He  cannot  say  many  intelligible  words.  He 
will  take  some  trouble,  I  dare  say,  to  get  into  obedient 
ways,  and  require  some  firmness  to  break  his  growing 
selfishness.  He  is  much  more  companionable  than 
children  of  his  age  usually  are,  but  dreadfully  pas- 
sionate." 


XIV. 

THE  SILVER  LINING  OF  THE  CLOUD. 

"Ah,  if  you  knew  what  peace  there  is  in  an  accepted 
sorrow."  —  Madame  Guyon. 

TUST  one  mile  from  Hurstmonceaux  Rectory, 
**  separated  from  it  by  a  little  wood  and  some  swell- 
ing corn-fields,  in  a  still  retirement,  surrounded  by 
ancient  trees  and  a  bright  garden,  stood  the  pleasant 
old-fashioned  house  of  Lime.  The  place  had  once 
been  the  site  of  a  small  monastic  institution,  of  which 
it  bore  trace  in  a  series  of  large  fish-ponds,  which 
occupied  the  hollow  below  its  little  lawn,  and 
through  which  a  small  brook  found  its  way  into 
a  copse  carpeted  with  anemones  and  primroses  in 
spring.  Another  side  of  the  garden  was  girt  with 
five  lofty,  jagged  abele-trees,  conspicuous  from  a 
great  distance,  and  known  as  "  the  Five  Sisters  of 
Lime,"  beneath  which  ran  a  grass  walk,  from  which 
there  was  a  wide  view  over  the  levels  to  the  dis- 
tant downs  and  sea.  The  principal  rooms  of  the 
house  opened  by  large  windows  upon  the  sunny 
garden  with  its  brilliant  flower-beds. 

If   England   had   been  searched   over,  a  house 
could  scarcely  have  been  found  more  suited  to  my 


THE    SILVER   LINING   OF   THE    CLOUD.  287 

dear  mother  than  Lime,  and  to  it  she  removed  in 
the  second  year  of  her  residence  at  Hurstmonceaux. 

Maria  Hare  to  Miss  Leycester. 

"Lime,  Hurstmonceaux,  Oct.  20.  —  I  am  now  settling 
in  my  new  tent,  pitched,  I  trust,  in  sure  trust  on  the  sup- 
porting arm  of  Him  whose  power  can  alone  hallow  it  to 
his  service  ;  and  in  the  hope  that,  amidst  outward  lone- 
liness, his  glory  will  be  in  the  midst  of  us,  enabling  us  to 
devote  ourselves  to  Him.  The  first  evening  of  my  com- 
ing here,  when  my  little  household  assembled  for  the  first 
time,  the  words  of  Solomon  in  the  dedication  of  his  tem- 
ple beseeching  '  God's  eyes  to  be  open  toward  this  house 
day  and  night,'  seemed  to  be  specially  applicable,  and  I 
did  earnestly  pray  that  here  '  his  name  may  be.'  *  The 
Lord  is  there '  is  always  to  me  a  most  comforting  name 
as  applied  to  the  spiritual  Zion,  the  believer's  heart,  and 
I  trust  in  some  degree  it  may  be  true  of  the  little  house- 
hold church  now  begun  here.  You,  who  have  no  dread 
of  solitude,  as  so  many  have,  will,  I  know,  enter  into  the 
exceeding  comfort  I  feel  after  two  years'  wandering  to 
find  myself  in  a  home  of  my  own,  free  to  act  and  think 
as  I  deem  best,  and  permitted  by  my  Heavenly  Father 
to  have  strength  enough  to  go  along  the  daily  walk  of 
life  with  some  little  —  though  at  present  but  very  little  — 
ability  to  help  others. 

"  The  first  arrival  here,  and  seeing  again  so  many 
things  which  recalled  Alton  strongly  before  me,  was  very 
overpowering ;  but  it  was  a  gentle,  not  a  bitter  sorrow,  a 
peaceful  and  thankful  consciousness  that  though  he  who 
was  the  joy  of  my  former  life  is  now  removed  from  sight, 
he  is  still  ever  near  in  fellowship  of  the  Spirit,  and  that 
in  following  the  path  of  his  Master  and  mine  I  am  still 


288  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

walking  together  with  him.  My  sweet  little  baby  Au- 
gustus seemed  as  if  sensible  of  all  that  I  was  feeling  that 
first  evening,  and  clung  to  me  and  kissed  me  over  and 
over,  as  if  to  show  his  wish  to  comfort  me.  Truly,  I  am 
most  richly  blest  in  the  possession  of  this  little  treasure, 
whose  winning  ways  would  cheer  the  saddest  heart,  and 
in  the  affectionate  kindness  of  Julius,  who  is  also  so 
constant  a  subject  of  interest  to  me." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  Lime,  Nov.  19,  1835.  —  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  perfect  my  life  here  is  ;  how  it  combines  all  I 
could  wish,  and  to  exchange  this  quiet  and  peaceful  life 
for  going  into  the  world  is  a  trial.  However,  I  feel  it 
is  not  only  right,  but  good ;  the  longer  I  continue  ab- 
stracted from  the  concerns  of  their  world,  the  more  intol- 
erant I  shall  grow  of  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  others, 
the  more  exertion  will  it  be  to  mix  again  in  any  society. 
It  is  time  I  should  live  for  others,  not  for  myself,  and  learn 
that  most  difficult  lesson,  to  live  above  the  world  though  in 
it.  Everywhere  there  will  be  my  Master's  work  to  do ; 
there  will  be  his  glory  to  magnify  by  life  and  conversation  ; 
and  all  this  preparation  time  will  have  been  to  little  pur- 
pose if  it  has  not  taught  me  in  meekness  and  love  to  live 
with  those  who  feel  differently." 

Maria  Hare's  Note-Book  (1836). 

"  One  difference  of  the  Jewish  and  Christian  dispen- 
sations lies  in  the  visible  and  invisible  manifestation  of 
God's  dealings  with  men.  In  the  spiritual  childhood  of 
the  world,  outward  signs  were  needed  to  make  known 
God's  power  and  rule,  the  secret  springs  of  the  machin- 
ery were  displayed ;  but  when  the  fulness  of  time  was 
come,  men  were  to  walk  no  longer  by  sight,  but  by  faith. 


THE    SILVER   LINING   OF   THE    CLOUD.  289 

The  same  Providence  watched  over  and  appointed  all 
things  ;  but  his  children  were  to  feel,  not  to  see  his  hand. 
So  in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  we  find  God's  attributes 
declared,  and  his  interference  in  human  affairs  constantly 
set  forth.  In  the  apostolic  writings,  the  whole  attention 
is  turned  to  our  relation  to  God,  and  the  principles  and 
duties  that  attach  tb  us  as  his  children  and  servants. 
And  wisely  is  it  so  arranged  ;  for  when  a  true  faith  has 
once  taken  possession  of  the  heart,  all  that  unbelief  of 
spiritual  agency,  that  reluctance  to  own  any  power  above 
our  own  that  clings  to  the  natural  man,  is  melted  away ; 
and  the  believer  in  Christ  cannot  doubt  the  influence  ex- 
erted over  all  the  events  of  his  life  by  the  providence  of 
God. 

"  It  is  not  by  texts  it  should  be  proved :  it  is  by  the 
whole  Bible  itself ;  its  facts,  its  exhortations,  its  prom- 
ises, are  all  idle  mockery,  if  God  has  no  more  daily  rule 
over  his  creatures,  and  over  the  instruments  He  has  made, 
than  the  watchmaker  over  the  watch  that  he  has  once 
seta-going.  It  may  be,  though  the  universal  laws  of 
nature  are,  in  the  common  course  of  things,  doubtless, 
immutable,  the  particular  application  of  those  laws  are 
in  God's  power  to  turn  as  He  wills.  So  Job  expresses 
the  subjection  of  the  lightnings  to  God's  order,  by  that 
poetical  figure,  '  Here  we  are  ! '  But  the  moment  we  be- 
gin to  inquire,  '  How  can  these  things  be  ? '  ■  How  God 
works  through  second  causes  ? '  we  are  lost  in  the  maze. 
Let  us  be- content  to  know  that  He  who  is  truth  hath 
said,  '  I  the  Lord  do  all  these  things,'  '  My  counsel  shall 
stand,  and  I  will  do  all  my  pleasure,'  *  I  have  spoken,  I 
will  also  bring  it  to  pass  ;  I  have  purposed  it,  I  will  also 
do  it.'  So  believing,  let  us  adore  and  be  thankful,  well 
assured  that  while  we  know  so  little  as  we  do  of  earthly 
13  3 


29O  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

matters,  we  could  ill  bear  to  know  more  of  heavenly 
ones." 

"  The  exclusive  spirit  of  the  Evangelicals  (so  called) 
and  their  common  mode  of  speaking  of  others  have 
always  been  repugnant  to  me.  Yet  it  is  impossible  for  any 
one  whose  spiritual  being  has  been  awakened  not  to  be 
conscious  of  the  difference  of  feeling,  —  the  absence  of 
spiritual  desires  in  another.  The  right  course,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  in  accordance  with  the  precept  of 
'  Judge  not,'  with  the  apostolic  spirit,  and  with  the  char- 
acter of  our  Church  and  all  its  offices,  is,  in  general 
society,  to  endeavor  to  treat  all  and  speak  of  all  who 
profess  themselves  Christians  as  our  brethren  in  one 
hope  j  to  strive  against  the  natural  shrinking  from  a 
manifestation  of  principles  that  cannot  be  entered  into  ; 
and  in  meekness  and  love  to  maintain  in  one's  own 
conduct  and  language  the  importance  of  heavenly  above 
earthly  things,  the  value  of  the  substance  above  the 
shadow  ;  abstaining  from  all  unnecessary  condemnation 
of  others  who  may  appear  to  act  on  any  other  motives.  All 
who  belong  to  the  visible  Church  of  Christ  should  be 
treated  as  members  of  that  Church,  and  looked  upon  as 
fellow-heirs  of  its  privileges,  and,  as  far  as  possible, 
addressed  on  the  same  footing  as  children  of  one  family, 
■ —  except  where  an  opening  is  made  to  speak  to  any  one 
personally  and  practically.  Then  the  general  union  must 
give  way  before'  the  individual  difference,  and  the  true 
and  home-searching  appeal  made,  whether  the  name  of 
Christian  be  of  outward  or  inward  application  ;  whether 
it  is  in  the  form  or  essence  that  God  is  worshipped ; 
whether  the  faith  in  Christ  be  a  living  root  or  a  dead 
profession." 


THE   SILVER   LINING   OF   THE    CLOUD.  29 1 

"  One  of  the  difficulties  often  brought  forward  in  these 
days  is  the  difference  existing  between  the  language  of 
our  Church  in  her  offices,  and  that  used  by  all  serious 
ministers  :  the  one  seeming  to  admit  all  into  the  privileges 
of  Christian  hope  who  are  outwardly  received  into  the 
Church ;  the  other,  restricting  those  privileges  to  those 
who  by  faith  have  truly  embraced  Christ  as  their  Saviour. 
May  not  the  solution  possibly  be  this :  that  the  services 
of  the  Church  are  designed  for  the  use  of  all  who  pro- 
fess and  call  themselves  Christians ;  that  they  are  not 
intended  for  purposes  of  reproof,  exhortation,  or  instruc- 
tion, but  as  a  mode  of  communication  between  man  and 
God,  in  .which  it  is  presupposed  that  all  who  do  avail 
themselves  of  such  forms  are  what  they  profess  to  be. 
The  preacher  of  God's  Word,  on  the  other  hand,  has  a 
very  different  office  to  perform.  His  work  is  '  rightly  to 
divide  the  word  of  truth,'  so  that  the  threatenings,  no 
less  than  the  promises  of  God,  shall  be  made  known, 
and  those  who  have  the  form  without  the  power  of  godli- 
ness shall  be  awakened  out  of  their  sleep,  while  those 
who  are  reconciled  to  God  through  faith  in  Christ  may 
be  encouraged  and  urged  on  to  holiness  of  life.  While 
the  Church  offices  have  only  to  supply  the  wants  of  the 
visible  body  of  Christ,  the  preacher  has  to  endeavor  to 
transform  the  visible  into  the  invisible  Church,  and  to 
bring  it  from  a  nominal  to  a  real  union  with  its  Head." 

"  Our  will  and  God's  are  not  by  nature  one.  So  long 
as  we  are  ignorant  what  God's  will  is,  all  seems  well. 
Our  own  will  has  its  own  way,  and  though  that  be  often 
a  tyrannical  way,  there  is  no  struggle  against  it,  and 
therefore  all  is  smooth.  But  as  the  conscience  becomes 
more  enlightened,  as  by  degrees  God's  will  is  opened  to 


292  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

us,  by  whatever  means  it  may  be,  there  arises  an  oppo- 
sition to  our  own  will  that  goes  on  increasing  in  strength 
as  we  grow  in  the  knowledge  of  God.  It  meets  in  its 
progress  with  many  a  stumbling-stone,  and  so  long  as  the 
heart  is  proud  and  will  not  bend  itself,  so  long  as  it 
trusts  to  its  own  power  of  combating  the  evil  within, 
God  will  resist,  i*-  He  will  not  help.  The  moment  the 
struggle  has  become  so  great  as  to  make  us  cry  loudly 
to  Him  for  help,  the  moment  we  come  as  little  children 
and  ask  for  strength,  his  ear  is  open  and  his  Spirit  is 
ready.  Sometimes  it  may  be  that  He  waits  like  the  man 
at  the  door  till  we  have  called  many  times,  that  He  may 
be  sure  it  is  a  cry  of  real  earnestness ;  but  most  surely 
is  the  grace  then  given,  and  though  the  self-will  is  not 
rooted  out,  though  there  it  will  be  to  the  end,  its  reign  is 
over,  and  henceforward,  though  often  rising  up,  it  is  kept 
subordinate  to  God's  will,  and  at  one  with  it." 

"  When  a  soul  has  through  grace  been  led  to  seek  for 
pardon  through  Christ,  and  has  received  the  full  assur- 
ance of  his  love,  it  begins  to  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness,  and  this  leads  to  a  diligent  inquiry  and 
adoption  of  every  means  that  may  help  in  conforming 
the  mind  to  that  of  Christ.  Sanctification  then  becomes 
the  one  prevailing  desire  of  the  soul,  and  oftentimes  it 
may  be  that  it  engrosses  the  attention  so  exclusively  that 
the  recollection  of  the  justifying  merits  of  Jesus  are  cast 
into  the  shade.  Then  comes  the  tempter  in  his  most 
subtle  form  as  an  angel  of  light,  leading  the  soul  by 
degrees  into  one  of  these  two  errors,  —  either  to  build 
its  hope  of  favor  with  God  on  the  change  that  has  taken 
place,  and  the  sanctification  which,  however  imperfect,  is 
still  begun  in  itself ;  or  to  a  gradual  distrust  of  salvation 


THE   SILVER   LINING  OF  THE   CLOUD.  293 

through  the  want  of  those  evidences  of  holiness  which 
it  esteems  needful  to  prove  its  title  to  God's  acceptance, 
—  and  so  to  be  continually  cast  down  in  doubt,  fear,  and 
uncertainty." 

"  There  is  a  great  diversity  of  judgment  as  to  the  value 
of  outward  acts  of  devotion  and  the  need  of  public 
means  of  grace.  May  not  one  cause  of  this  difference 
lie  in  the  circumstances  of  life  as  well  as  in  the  peculiar 
character  of  the  individual  ?  When  there  are  many  dis- 
tractions of  thought  in  the  daily  life,  many  interruptions 
to  the  serene  and  even  course  which  alone  is  favorable 
for  communion  with  God,  it  is  a  blessed  and  a  solem- 
nizing help  to  fix  the  mind  and  make  silence  in  the  soul 
when  we  can  come  into  a  sanctuary  set  apart  for  his 
worship,  where  every  association  is  of  a  holy  nature, 
where  the  voice  and  tone  of  the  man  of  God  calls  us  to 
join  in  prayer  and  praise.  He  is  an  instrument  in  tuning 
our  hearts,  which  our  new  strength  is  insufficient  to  do 
for  itself.  And  the  constraint  imposed  by  an  appointed 
service,  by  fixed  words,  by  the  help  of  sound  to  the  ear, 
of  all  things  consecrated  to  the  eye,  seems  to  lift  up  the 
dead  soul  unto  God,  and  take  away  the  power  of  worldly 
things  which  shut  us  out  from  His  presence. 

"  In  proportion,  therefore,  as  there  is  difficulty  in  fixing 
the  attention,  so  is  the  public  worship  of  God  a  great 
blessing  and  comfort. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  when  the  ordinary  habits  of  life 
are  retired  and  private  ones,  when  the  presence  of  the 
Most  High  is  realized  in  the  silence  of  our  own  homes, 
and  when  reading  the  word  of  God  can  be  joined  with 
meditation  and  prayer,  the  want  of  this  outward  machin- 
ery is  not  so  much  felt,  rather  it  is  at  times  perhaps  an 


294  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

effort  to  conquer  the  distraction  occasioned  by  having 
the  society  of  others  around  us.  But  then  is  it  really 
needed  as  truly  as  in  other  circumstances,  to  take  us  out 
of  self,  and  make  us  feel  a  fellowship  of  spirit  with  other 
members  of  Christ." 

"  If  it  is  contrary  to  truth  when  we  say  of  a  morning 
the  sun  has  risen,  and  of  an  evening  the  sun  has  set, 
instead  of  saying  the  earth  has  revolved  on  her  axis, 
then,  in  the  same  sense,  there  is  a  contradiction  to  truth 
in  the  expression  in  Joshua,  the  sun  stood  still.  As  absurd 
as  it  would  be  to  object  to  the  common  every-day  expres- 
sions of  familiar  life,  because  not  in  accordance  with 
philosophical  accuracy,  is  the  cavil  at  the  statement  of 
the  appearance  presented  by  the  miracle,  instead  of  its 
cause  being  brought  forward.  We  indeed  know  from 
science  what  is  the  cause  of  the  appearance,  and  Joshua 
did  not;  but  the  accuracy  of  the  appearance,  so  far 
from  being  thereby  lessened,  is  rather  increased,  since 
he  related  the  plain  and  simple  fact  that  was  before  his 
eyes,  without  making  deductions  of  his  own  that  might 
have  been  fallacious." 

"  The  pantheist  sees  God  only  through  all ;  the  mystic 
acknowledges  Him  only  in  you  all.  To  see  Him  above 
all,  through  all,  and  in  you  all,  as  sovereign  Lord  of 
heaven  and  earth,  the  true  and  living  God,  united  to  his 
manifestation  in  his  works,  and  his  operation  in  our 
hearts  by  the  indwelling  of  his  Spirit,  this  is  a  hard 
matter  to  feel  in  all  its  fulness." 

"  A  great  love  can  see  and  own  defects  in  the  object 
of  its  affections,  and  yet  love  on. 


THE    SILVER    LINING    OF    THE    CLOUD.  295 

"  A  little  love  fears  the  truth  and  seeks  to  hide  it." 

"  If  we  wish  to  compose  a  heaven  of  holy  spirits  and 
lovely  minds,  let  us  take  the  ideal  of  all  those  we  most 
love  and  honor,  and  we  can  wish  for  nothing  more  per- 
fect than  such  a  fellowship  would  be.  By  the  ideal,  is 
meant  the  graces  and  talents  of  mind  and  character 
purified  from  all  earthly  dross  and  taint  of  sin. 

"How  beautiful  must  be  the  lives  of  the  just  made 
perfect  when  thus  clothed  upon  with  Christ's  righteous- 
ness, and  shining  in  the  brightness  of  that  light  which 
shall  never  be  dimmed  !  '  They  shall  be  as  the  stars  in 
the  firmament  of  God.'  " 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

"Lime,  April,  1836.  —  Truly  this  is  a  sunny  home. 
There  are  quantities  of  wild  flowers  which  you  know  the 
delight  of,  and  baby  is  so  happy  with  them.  ...  In  an 
evening,  when  from  weariness  and  pain  I  am  unable  to 
read,  I  am  sometimes  tempted  to  forget  that  there  is  an 
eye  looking  with  compassion  and  tenderness,  and  an  ear 
ready  to  hear  every  complaint,  so  that  I  do  feel  the  want 
of  that  tender,  pitying  affection  I  once  had;  then, 
perhaps,  at  that  very  moment,  there  will  come  in  a 
messenger  from  the  rectory,  with  a  beautiful  verbena 
plant,  a  fine  balsam,  or  some  other  token  that  I  have 
still  the  affectionate  attention  of  a  dear  brother  to  pre- 
vent the  outward  blank  from  pressing  too  heavily,  and  to 
melt  me  into  tears  at  the  thought  of  my  own  unworthi- 
ness  of  such  continued  comforts.  Then  in  my  dear 
child  what  is  my  comfort." 


2g6  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

Julius  Hare  to  Francis  Hare. 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  Dec.  26,  1837. —  .  .  .  Neander, 
I  see,  has  been  publishing  a  Life  of  Christ.  This  will 
be  the  completest  answer  to  Strauss;  who,  from  his 
polemical  replies,  seems  to  be  a  very  vulgar-minded, 
though  hard-headed  master  of  abuse,  a  man  of  intoler- 
able self-conceit,  and  deluded  by  an  idea  which  he  had 
taken  from  Hegel,  and  does  not  understand.  Nothing 
can  be  more  fallacious  than  his  fundamental  principle, 
that  every  thing  must  be  progressive.  In  whatever  is  at 
all  akin  to  inspiration,  it  is  just  the  contrary,  as  Homer, 
Dante,  Shakespeare,  Raphael,  Phidias,  show." 

My  mother's  chief  interest  in  1837  lay  in  the 
promotion  of  her  brother-in-law,  Edward  Stanley, 
to  the  see  of  Norwich,  and  the  removal  of  his 
family  to  the  scene  of  his  future  labors.  The 
unusual  degree  of  sympathy  and  affection  which 
always  existed  between  her  and  her  sister  caused 
her  to  watch  with  eagerness  for  every  minute 
detail  of  the  new  life  upon  which  the  Stanleys 
were  entering,  with  its  manifold  duties  and  occu- 
pations. During  her  frequent  visits  at  the  palace, 
while  regretting  the  rectory  and  beechwoods  of 
Alderley,  she  found  fresh  sources  of  enjoyment  in 
the  picturesque  and  architectural  characteristics  of 
Norwich. 

Maria  Hare's  Note-Book. 

"  The  nearest  approach  we  usually  make  to  thankful- 
ness is  to  feel  that  we  ought  to  be  thankful,  and  to 
mourn  in  not  being  so.     The  active,  upward-springing 


THE    SILVER   LINING   OF   THE    CLOUD.  297 

language  of  praise  is  but  seldom  able  to  break  through 
the  bonds  of  weakness  and  earthly-mindedness,  and  the 
burden  of  sin  with  which  we  are  too  often  weighed 
down.  To  rejoice  in  having  our  wills  crossed,  in  being 
conformed  to  His  likeness  through  suffering,  is  a  hard 
attainment;  and  yet  perhaps  true  thankfulness  oftener 
arises  under  outward  privation .  than  when  loaded  with 
what  seem  to  our  eyes  the  greatest  benefits.  Our  nature 
seems  more  especially  to  show  its  root  of  selfish  and 
ungodly  desires  in  the  midst  of  God's  bounty.  The 
moment  we  are  laid  low  by  his  chastening  hand,  our 
true  relation  to  Him,  and  debt  of  love,  is  brought  home 
to  our  hearts  in  the  sense  of  our  nothingness  and  of  his 
power  and  mercy." 

"  To  the  spiritually  minded,  time  and  place  are  not. 
The  Word  of  God  is  therefore,  when  spiritually  appre- 
hended, no  history  of  successive  generations  having 
reference  to  various  countries  and  divers  persons ;  it 
becomes  a  living  present  whole,  —  a  picture  of  the  deal- 
ings of  God  with  man,  of  the  great  contest  between 
good  and  evil,  of  the  victory  over  evil  by  Christ  dwell- 
ing in  the  soul,  and  holding  communion  with  God." 

"(July  7.)  —  Is  it  possible  that  the  wicked,  when 
they  leave  this  world,  will  love  God  ?  The  thought  is  a 
strange  one,  but  it  has  occurred  to  me  from  feeling  that 
sin  in  myself  or  others  is  the  only  real  misery,  and  that, 
without  a  love  for  God,  it  would  not  be  misery  thus  to  be 
separated  from  Him.  If  then  hell,  or,  in  other  words, 
misery  and  suffering,  is  hereafter,  as  it  doubtless  is,  only 
in  a  far  greater  degree  than  it  can  be  here,  the  conscious 
separation  from  God  by  sin,  must  not  there  be  in  the 
13* 


298  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

spirits  of  the  departed  wicked  some  love  for  God,  some 
desire  to  live  in  the  brightness  of  his  countenance, 
instead  of  under  its  gloom,  to  create  such  a  sense  of 
wretchedness  ?  Or  is  it  that,  on  leaving  the  body,  such 
spirits  are  brought  to  a  consciousness  of  life  proceeding 
from  God,  such  as  is  effected  here  in  the  regenerate, 
while  the  door  is  shut  of  reconciliation  and  restoration 
to  holiness  through  Christ,  and  the  life  becomes  one, 
not  of  harmony,  but  of  eternal  and  conscious  discord. 
How  unfathomable  is  the  mystery  of  the  possibility  of 
evil  being  in  any  way  even  in  the  remotest  degree 
associated  with  God !  and  yet  some  link  there  must  be 
between  Him  and  the  ungodly,  or  there  would  not  be 
the  exceeding  painfulness  of  the  separation." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

"Palace,  Norwich,  Dec.  8,  1838.  —  The  great  interest 
of  this  place  is  the  cathedral.  It  is  quite  close  to  the 
palace,  and  from  my  room  I  distinctly  hear  the  roll  of 
the  organ  twice  every  day.  I  never  enjoyed  a  cathedral 
before.  Here  it  is  like  a  friend,  a  companion,  and  its 
exceeding  beauty  grows  on  one.  Had  I  strength,  I 
would  attend  the  service  daily,  for  it  seems  quite  to  lift 
one  out  of  the  world.  There  is  something  most  impres- 
sive in  hearing,  in  the  dusk  of  twilight,  the  beautiful 
music  swelling  through  that  lofty  and  magnificent  temple 
to  the  glory  of  God.  I  feel,  too,  as  if  even  the  absence 
of  any  congregation  made  it  more  touching  and  solemn, 
—  to  think  that,  day  by  day,  those  most  harmonious  and 
beautiful  songs  of  praise  are  resounding  in  the  ear  of 
God  alone.  His  presence  seems  truly  to  dwell  in  this 
his  house,  and  his  glory  to  fill  the  temple." 


THE   SILVER   LINING   OF   THE   CLOUD.  299 

Maria  Hare's  Note-Book  (1839). 

"May  26. — We  find  in  the  Bible  a  number  of 
doctrines  and  precepts,  parts  of  one  whole  system  of 
truth,  but  which,  when  separated  one  from  another,  and 
looked  at  singly,  appear  sometimes  at  first  sight  to 
oppose  each  other.  Where  shall  we  meet  with  the  key- 
note to  bring  all  into  harmony,  to  reconcile  the  apparent 
jar,  to  make  the  full  and  perfect  chord  of  unison?  It 
is  to  be  found  only  in  the  contrite  and  humble  spirit 
When  by  the  life-giving  Spirit  of  God  the  inward  spirit 
of  man  is  taught  its  true  relation  to  God,  when  the  heart 
yields  itself  in  lowly  submission  to  the  dominion  of  Him 
who  has  bought  it  for  his  own,  and  the  rebellion  and 
stiff-neckedness  whereby  it  is  prone  to  reject  this  King 
to  reign  over  it  is  overthrown,  and  a  loving  obedience 
takes  its  place,  then,  and  then  only,  do  all  the  differing 
notes  and  tunes  of  God's  voice  meet  together,  and  utter 
one  full  and  rich  sound  of  harmony  and  beauty,  the 
fuller  and  richer  because  combined  of  so  many  varying 
parts. 

"  The  soul  convinced  of  sin,  yearning  after  a  Saviour, 
hungering  after  righteousness  and  true  holiness,  finds  no 
contradictions  in  God's  Word,  —  the  expression  of  its 
wants  and  the  answer  to  them  is  already  prepared ;  and 
though  the  understanding  would  vainly  endeavor  to 
explain  the  mystery  of  God's  free  grace  with  man's  free 
will,  the  meek  and  lowly  heart  finds  rest  in  the  sure 
consciousness  that  it  is  God  that  is  working  in  it,  and 
that  He  will  go  on  with  his  work  till  it  be  finished ;  that 
man  must  receive  the  Saviour  if  he  would  have  power  to 
become  a  son  of  God,  and  yet  it  is  only  through  the 
drawing  of  the  Father  that  he  is  enabled  to  come  to 
Jesus  to  have  life.     He  needs  no  reasoning  to  prove 


300  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

how  works  grow  out  of  faith,  and  not  faith  from  works, 
he  knows  and  feels  that  the  principle  of  life  must  exist 
before  a  man  can  move  or  act,  and  that  when  that  life 
is  awakened  motion  and  action  must  follow. 

"  June  2  ('  The  Green  Book ').  —  The  tenth  anniver- 
sary of  my  most  blessed  marriage  is  come :  the  day 
which  witnessed  my  union  with  one  who  is  entered 
beyond  the  veil,  and  for  a  time  is  hidden  from  my  eyes. 
The  earthly  union  is  dissolved,  but  the  heavenly  one,  I 
trust  and  believe,  is  far  closer  than  in  the  first  days  of 
our  married  life  ;  and  I  would  fain  hope  that  as  mem- 
bers of  the  same  body,  adoring  the  same  Head,  knit 
together  in  the  same  fellowship  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  my 
beloved  Augustus  and  I  are  still  joining  together  daily 
and  hourly  in  drinking  of  the  same  Spirit,  and  being 
one,  even  as  the  Father  and  the  Son  are  one.  .  .  . 
When  I  look  back  I  feel  that  the  one  feature  in  his 
character  that  so  peculiarly  marked  the  Spirit  of  God  as 
dwelling  in  him  was  Iove>  —  a  love  never  wearied  in 
well  doing  or  in  thinking  well  of  others,  perceiving 
the  smallest  spark  of  good,  and  yet  through  this  his 
heavenly  glass  of  love  not  deceived  by  a  false  standard 
or  delusive  desire  to  count  evil  as  good,  but  seeing 
truly  and  discerning  clearly  what  was  of  God  and  what 
of  man. 

"  While  the  link  to  heaven  is  drawn  close,  that  to 
earth  is  still  unbroken.  In  the  wealth  of  God's  love  to 
me  his  poor  servant,  while  he  has  taken  away  that  which 
held  me  too  fast  bound  to  the  creature,  He  has  given 
anew  all  that  it  is  possible  for  me  rightly  to  enjoy,  and 
made  the  earnest  desire  of  my  heart  to  long  after  that 
which  would  be  to  the  praise  of  his  glory.  .  .  .  '  Lord, 
teach  me  right  judgment  and  knowledge \ '  this  is  my 


THE    SILVER    LINING    OF    THE    CLOUD.  3OI 

constant  prayer.  I  know  not  how  to  guide  my  house- 
hold aright,  —  how  to  train  up  my  child  in  the  way  he 
should  go,  —  how  to  draw  my  dearest  Julius  nearer  in 
fellowship  of  spirit  with  his  God  and  mine.  Let  this 
threefold  duty  be  made  plain  to  me,  so  plain  that  I  may 
not  err  in  it ;  and  whatever  may  be  the  cost,  oh  may  the 
Spirit  of  Jesus  reign  in  me  till  every  selfish  aim  and 
purpose  is  rooted  out,  every  unkind  and  severe  judgment, 
every  unloving  thought,  displaced,  and  perfect  love  and 
perfect  purity  wrought  in  my  heart." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

"Stoke,  Dec.  31,  1839.  —  On  Christmas  Day,  Julewas 
engaged  in  consecrating  our  own  Augustus's  school-room 
at  Hurstmonceaux  (built  with  the  profits  of  his  sermons) 
to  Him  whose  birthday  it  was.  On  the  afternoon  of 
Christmas  Day,  when  there  is  usually  no  service  in 
church,  he  had  service  there  ;  and  after  a  preface  of  his 
own  to  explain  the  purpose  of  the  room,  and  who, 
through  his  book,  had  enabled  us  to  build  it,  he  read 
1  the  Angel's  Text '  as  the  best  dedication  to  the  glory 
of  God  in  the  highest,  and  to  the  end  of  peace  and 
good-will  among  men.  I  never  could  have  borne  the 
way  in  which  Jule  spoke  of  Augustus  and  his  interest  in 
Hurstmonceaux,  and  how  his  sermons  would  have  made 
them  love  him,  had  he  ever  preached  to  them,  otherwise 
I  should  have  longed  to  be  there." 

Maria  Hare  to  Mrs.  R.  Pile. 

11  April  24,  1840.  —  My  little  Augustus  is  overjoyed 
to  get  back  again,  and  we  are  now  once  more  in  our 
peaceful  home,  where  he  is  the  happiest  of  the  happy 
with  all  the  wild   flowers   that   carpet  our  fields  and 


\ 


302  RECORDS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

hedges,  and  his  own  little  garden  and  rabbits.  My 
brother  Julius  has  been  made  Archdeacon  of  Lewes  by 
the  Bishop  of  Chichester.  It  is  an  appointment  that 
suits  him  well,  as  it  will  not  take  him  away  from  Hurst- 
monceaux,  and  will  yet  give  him  an  interest  and  in- 
fluence over  his  brother  clergy,  that  will  benefit  both 
him  and  them.  We  have  now  regular  evening  service, 
and  a  lecture  in  the  new  school-room,  which  the  last 
edition  of  the  '  Alton  Sermons  '  has  enabled  me  to  build. 
Here  many  old  persons  who  have  not  been  able  to  get 
to  church  for  years  are  able  to  come,  and  Julius  talks  to 
them  so  familiarly,  it  reminds  me  more  of  Alton  than 
any  thing  else  since  I  left  it." 


XV. 

HOME-LIFE    AT   LIME. 

m  Rejoice,  oh  grieving  heart, 
The  hours  fly  past ; 
With  each  some  sorrow  dies, 
With  each  some  shadow  flies, 

Until  at  last 
The  red  dawn  in  the  east 
Bids  weary  night  depart, 
And  pain  is  past." 

Adelaide  Procter. 

r  I  ^HE  garden  at  Lime  was  really  a  very  small 
-*■  one,  but  it  was  wonderfully  varied,  and  to  its 
widowed  owner  it  was  a  source  of  ever-fresh  happi- 
ness, while  to  her  child  its  delights  were  inexhaust- 
ible. Every  variety  of  flower  seemed  to  have  an 
especial  luxury  in  blooming  in  its  many  little  beds 
and  baskets  j  and  the  steep  grass  bank,  which 
sloped  away  from  the  lawn  to  the  large  transparent 
fish-ponds  of  the  old  monastery,  was  a  scene  of  en- 
chantment in  spring  from  the  myriads  of  wild  flow- 
ers with  which  it  was  covered,  —  daffodils,  orchis, 
lady's-smock,  and  bluebells,  but,  above  all,  from  a 
perfect  glory  of  primroses,  and  these  of  every  shade 
of  crimson  and  pink,  besides  the  ordinary  yellow 
ones,  their  ancestors  .having  probably  been  planted 
in  former  times,  though  they  now  grew  luxuriantly 
wild. 


304  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

And  every  corner  of  this  garden,  in  which  we 
led  an  almost  solitary  life  for  so  many  years,  is 
filled  with  the  memory  of  my  dearest  mother's 
sweet  presence.  It  was  our  earthly  Eden.  How 
often  I  recollect  her  sitting  in  the  sparkling  morn- 
ing of  a  hot  summer's  day,  at  breakfast  in  the 
cool  house  shadow  outside  the  little  drawing-room 
window,  where  the  air  was  laden  with  the  fresh 
scent  of  the  dewy  pinks  and  syringa;  how  often 
meditating  in  the  green  alley  which  separated  our 
garden  from  the  wheat-field,  and  which  she  called 
her  "  Prayer-walk  ; "  how  often,  in  feebler  and  sad- 
der days,  pacing  to  and  fro  in  the  path  at  the  top 
of  the  kitchen  garden,  exposed  to  the  sun,  and 
sheltered  from  the  winter  wind  by  a  thick  wall  of 
holm-beech,  which  ended  at  a  summer-house,  the 
scene  of  many  happy  children's  feasts,  hung  round 
with  old  stag-horns  which  were  relics  of  the  castle 
deer-park. 

During  the  early  years  of  her  life  at  Lime  my 
dearest  mother  seemed  to  live  so  completely  in 
heaven  that  all  outward  times  and  seasons  were  so 
many  additional  links  between  it  and  her.  Spring 
came  to  her  as  the  especial  season  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion, and  in  the  up-springing  of  each  leaf  and 
flower  she  rejoiced  as  typical  of  the  rising  again  of 
all  her  loved  and  lost  ones  ;  summer  was  the  time 
in  which  chiefly  to  dwell  upon  the  abundance  of 
God's  mercies,  the  fulness  of  his  gifts  ;  the  golden 
fields  of  Hurstmonceaux  in  the  harvest  were  to  her 
the  image  of  that  great  harvest-field  in  which  the 


HOME-LIFE   AT   LIME.  $0$ 

reapers  are  the  angels  ;  she  loved  to  walk  in  the 
hop-gardens,  and  amid  those  Sussex  vines  to  dwell 
upon  the  allusions  to  the  Vine  and  its  branches, 
especially  precious  to  her  as  linking  each  humblest 
Christian  so  closely,  as  of  the  same  plant,  to  the 
great  Head  of  the  Church ;  Christmas  brought  real 
heart-rejoicing  in  all  its  sacred  associations.  But 
most  of  all,  as  most  to  one  to  whom  the  future  was 
the  real  life,  the  present  only  the  waiting-time,  did 
my  mother  rejoice  in  Easter.  Then  her  inward 
spiritual  life  seemed  to  overflow.  Day  by  day 
through  her  silent  week,  —  the  "  Stille  Woche,"  — 
which  was  so  real  to  her,  she  lived  with  and  fol- 
lowed through  each  scene  of  Bethany,  Gethsemane, 
and  Calvary  ;  shutting  out  the  whole  world,  her 
spirit,  following  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  dwelt 
apart  with  God  ;  in  the  moon  glittering  through 
the  hazels  upon  the  silver  riplets  of  our  beautiful 
pond  she  seemed  to  see  the  paschal  moon  which 
rose  over  Olivet.  And  when  the  Easter  really 
came,  then  her  heart  rose  upwards  and  lived  afresh 
with  her  risen  and  living  Saviour,  and,  with  her 
inmost  being  poured  out  in  praise,  she  fell  at  his 
feet  like  Mary,  and  with  her  whole  soul  she  em- 
braced Christ. 

No  Christian  season  was  a  name  to  her,  all 
were  burning,  glowing  realities.  And,  through  the 
whole  of  her  course,  from  childhood  to  old  age  and 
infirmities,  the  key-note  of  her  life,  the  mainspring 
of  her  every  act,  was  love,  —  love  to  God,  love  to 
God's  poor,  love  to  her  family,  love,  which  by  the 


306  RECORDS  OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

rubs  and  pressure  of  the  world  was  never  ruffled, 
because  no  injury  could  irritate  her,  who  had  al- 
ways forgiven  beforehand,  and  who  always  thought 
all  others  better,  so  much  better,  than  herself. 

The  other  prominent  figure  in  the  home  recol- 
lections of  my  childhood  is  my  uncle  Julius,  the 
gaunt  figure,  with  a  countenance  generally  stern 
and  engrossed,  but  capable  of  as  much  variation  as 
a  winter  sky,  and  sometimes  breaking  into  the  most 
noble  enthusiasm,  into  the  most  joyous  animation, 
or  into  bursts  of  the  most  unspeakable  tenderness. 
It  was  to  my  mother  that  all  the  bright  and  loving 
side  of  his  nature  especially  revealed  itself.  To 
her,  whom  all  loved,  my  uncle  was  radiant  with 
the  most  tender  devotion.  He  entered  into  all  her 
feelings,  he  consulted  her  on  all  his  plans,  he  laid 
open  to  her  all  his  thoughts  ;  with  her  alone  he 
was  never  cold,  never  harsh,  —  with  her  and  with 
the  poor,  for  to  the  poor  he  was  always  as  gentle 
as  he  was  generous.  In  the  summer  the  Marcus 
Hares  generally  passed  several  months  at  Hurst- 
monceaux  Rectory,  when  we  also  lived  there ;  but 
at  other  times  my  uncle  appeared  regularly  between 
five  and  six  every  evening,  and  dined  with  my 
mother,  sitting  with  her  afterwards  to  talk,  —  gen- 
erally of  parish  matters  ;  often,  after  his  elevation 
to  the  archdeaconry  of  Lewes,  about  clerical 
affairs  ;  at  one  time,  much  about  his  new  version 
of  the  Psalms,  which,  for  the  most  part,  they 
arranged  together.  In  the  affectionate  care  of 
Julius,  and  still  more  in  her  cares  for  him,  my 


HOME-LIFE    AT   LIME.  307 

mother  found  her  chief  link  with  her  past  life.  If 
on  any  day  he  missed  coming,  that  day  was  a  blank 
to  her,  and  in  the  mornings  she  would  frequently 
go  up  to  the  high  field  between  Lime  and  the  Rec- 
tory, which  was  then  just  within  the  limit  of  her 
walk,  in  order  that  from  thence  she  might  catch  a 
glimpse  of  his  tall  figure  as  he  paced  up  and  down 
between  the  oaks  which  fringed  the  rectory  garden. 
Every  Sunday  morning  also  my  uncle  never 
failed  to  come  to  Lime  that  he  might  drive  my 
mother  to  church,  discussing  his  sermon  or  the 
many  parish  interests,  as  they  slowly  ascended  the 
hill  on  which  the  church  stands,  seeing  the  familiar 
figures  of  the  well-known  country  people,  the  men 
in  their  smock-frocks,  climbing  the  steep  path  above 
the  road,  and  receiving  their  affectionate  greetings. 
In  the  hill-top  position  of  his  church,  my  uncle 
never  ceased  to  rejoice.  He  spoke  of  it  in  one  of 
his  sermons :  — 

"Precious  is  the  blessing  which  we  enjoy,  in  having 
the  Lord's  house  amid  our  dwellings,  set  up  on  high, 
that  all  may  see  it,  with  its  spire  ever  pointing  to  heavenn 
to  remind  us,  whenever  it  meets  our  eyes,  how  our  hearts 
also  ought  always  to  be  pointing  thither,  with  the  same 
quiet,  steadfast,  unchanging,  immovable  calmness.  If 
the  situation  of  our  church  is  in  many  respects  inconven- 
ient, at  all  events  it  has  this  advantage,  that  it  stands 
upon  a  hill,  so  as  to  be  clearly  seen  afar  off  j  and  many 
a  time,  I  think,  when  the  sky  has  been  overcast  with 
driving  clouds,  and  every  thing  else  looked  gloomy,  you 
must  have  observed  a  pure,  still  light  resting  upon  it, 


308  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

betokening  the  light  which,  amid  all  the  clouds  and 
storms  of  the  world,  rests  on  a  heaven-pointing  spirit."* 

In  the  Sunday  afternoons  my  mother  would  take 
her  Testament,  and  find  some  sheltered  seat  in 
Lime  Wood,  and  there  she  loved  to  teach  her  child, 
who  always  felt  that  no  number  of  church  services 
could  do  him  so  much  good  as  one  Sunday  after- 
noon spent  thus  with  her  who  "  sweetly  instructed 
him  down  in  his  heart." 

It  was  from  the  Rectory  that  my  mother  derived 
almost  all  the  society  she  still  consented  to  see. 
Sedgwick,  Landor,  Whewell,  Worsley,  Bunsen,  and 
Thirlwall,  were  frequent  guests  there,  and  one  or 
other  often  accompanied  my  uncle  in  his  daily 
visits  to  Lime.  In  that  little  home  itself  there 
were  few  guests,  occasionally  the  Stanleys,  Miss 
Clinton,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pile,  but  the  circle  was  sel- 
dom increased. 

In  the  first  years  of  her  widowhood,  in  her 
autumn  journeys  to  Shropshire,  my  mother  had 
several  times  turned  aside  to  the  village  of  Bub- 
nell,  near  Leamington,  to  visit  Frederick  Maurice, 
a  former  pupil  of  her  brother  Julius,  who  was  then 
officiating  there  as  curate.  With  him  lived  his 
sister  Priscilla,  the  most  remarkable  of  the  eight 
daughters  of  Michael  Maurice,  a  Unitarian  min- 
ister at  Frenchay,  near  Bristol,  and  a  man  of 
mark  in  his  own  community. 

Though  very  feeble,  Priscilla  Maurice  had  not  at 

*  Parish  Sermon,  —  "  The  Duty  of  Building  the  Lord's  House." 


HOME-LIFE   AT   LIME.  309 

this  time  fallen  into  the  serious  ill-health  which  for 
so  many  of  the  later  years  of  her  life  confined  her 
entirely  to  her  bed,  and  she  passed  a  part  of  every 
summer  at  Lime,  and  was  much  beloved  there. 
In  1842  she  begged  to  bring  with  her  and  to  in- 
troduce to  her  friend  her  younger  sister  Esther, 
for  whom  she  was  anxious  to  obtain  the  relaxa- 
tion of  country  air  and  quiet,  as  she  was  at  that 
time  laboriously  employed  with  another  sister  in 
teaching  a  school  at  Reading.  During  this  visit 
was  laid  the  foundation  of  a  friendship  which 
ended,  in  1844,  in  the  marriage  of  Esther  Maurice 
with  my  uncle  Julius,  a  marriage  which  naturally 
brought  with  it  a  great  change  in  my  mother's 
home  life,  but  which  she  welcomed  gladly  at  the 
time  as  conferring  the  blessing  she  most  desired 
for  her  brother-in-law,  and  which  she  never  for  a 
moment  regretted,  though  the  close  juxtaposition 
into  which  they  were  thrown  made  the  differences 
of  character  and  feeling,  induced  by  early  circum- 
stances and  associations,  more  apparent  as  years 
went  on. 

In  1842,  it  came  to  my  mother  as  a  great  happi- 
ness that  the  Bunsens  fixed  their  residence  for  a 
time  in  the  old  family  home  of  Hurstmonceaux 
Place.  Their  society  gave  quite  a  new  zest  and 
freshness  to  all  her  intellectual  pursuits,  especially 
to  the  German  authors  in  whom  she  was  inter- 
ested, and  in  the  daughters  of  that  loving  family 
circle  she  found  joyful  helpers  in  all  her  parish 
work.     But   in    1844   the   distance   from   London, 


3IO  RECORDS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

which  was  great  in  those  non-railroad  days,  obliged 
Bunsen  to  leave  Hurstmonceaux,  and  to  bring  to 
end  a  period  which  he  looked  upon  as  one  of  the 
happiest  portions  of  his  life.* 

During  these  years,  as  her  health  became 
stronger,  my  mother  was  able  to  devote  herself 
more  fully  to  work  amongst  the  poor,  and  two 
or  three  times  in  a  week  spent  the  afternoon  at 
Foul-Mile,  a  neglected  hamlet  in  a  distant  corner  of 
the  parish.  The  tenderness  of  her  ministrations 
among  them  is  commemorated  in  the  dedication 
of  Julius  Hare's  Parish  Sermons,  —  "  To  her  who 
was  the  blessing  of  my  beloved  brother  Augustus 
during  the  years  of  his  wedded  life,  and  whose 
love  for  the  poor  of  my  parish,  since  she  became 
a  widow,  has  been  their  blessing  and  mine." 

There  was  that  in  my  mother's  parish  visits 
which  will  never  be  forgotten  at  Hurstmonceaux. 
It  was  that  she  never  came  merely  to  read  and  to 
lecture  and  to  distribute  tracts,  but  that  she  brought 
with  her  a  heart  brimming  with  loving  sympathy 
to  enter  into  all  the  troubles  of  the  cottagers,  to 
advise  and  help  them  when  she  could,  in  their 
worldly  as  well  as  their  spiritual  concerns,  and  in 
all  to  feel  for,  if  not  with  them.  And  thus  many 
an  aching  heart  in  the  villages  of  Lime  Cross  and 
Gardner  Street,  which  were  within  half-a-mile  dis- 
tant, turned  to  the  old  house  with  the  tall  clustered 
chimneys  and  bright  garden,  in  the  glad  assurance 
that  it  contained  one  who  was  no  cold  and  distant 

*  "Memoirs  of  Baron  Bunsen,"  ii.  45. 


HOME-LIFE   AT   LIME.  311 

mistress,  but  the  warm-hearted  sharer  of  all  their 
joys  and  sorrows,  and  with  the  certainty  that  no 
case  of  wrong  was  too  trifling,  no  perplexity  too 
simple,  to  obtain  a  willing  and  patient  hearing  from 
her  whom  they  were  wont  to  call  "the  Lady  o' 
Lime." 

Each  morning,  as  soon  as  breakfast  was  over, 
would  see  my  mother  cross  her  high  field  with  its 
wide  view  over  level  and  sea,  and  then  follow  the 
oak-fringed  lane  to  the  girls'  school,  where  she 
taught  the  children,  —  always  gladly  welcomed  by 
them  from  the  interest  she  contrived  to  throw  into 
the  most  ordinary  lesson,  often  enlivening  her  in- 
structions with  stories  of  things  she  had  seen  or 
read  of,  or  simple  facts  of  natural  history.  Each 
village  girl  saw  in  her  one  who  was  as  necessary  a 
part  of  her  home  as  the  members  of  her  own  fam- 
ily, one  to  whom  all  her  family  relationships  and 
domestic  concerns  were  familiar,  and  who  cared  for 
each  individually.  When  any  were  sick  or  sorry 
it  was  their  u  Lady "  they  wished  to  see ;  if  any 
prosperity  befell  them,  they  hastened  to  tell  her  of 
it ;  and,  at  their  little  festivals,  especially  that  of 
the  first  of  May,  nothing  was  considered  complete 
unless  their  dear  "  Lady  "  was  there,  sitting  under 
the  laburnum  trees,  in  the  little  school-court,  en- 
joying all  with  them. 

But  the  wealth  of  the  great  love  which  was  so 
abundant  for  others  was  most  of  all  poured  out  for 
the  child  of  her  adoption,  who  was  scarcely  ever 
separated  from  her,  whom  she  made  ufter  a  fashion 


312  RECORDS   OF    A   QUIET    LIFE. 

a  sharer  in  all  her  thoughts,  and  a  companion  in  all 
her  pursuits,  for  whom  she  tried  to  draw  a  lesson 
out  of  every  thing  in  nature, —  and  who  found,  even 
in  childhood,  every  hour  too  short,  which  was 
passed  in  the  perpetual  sunshine  of  her  dear 
presence. 

In  the  summer  of  1842,  while  the  whole  family 
were  collected  at  Hurstmonceaux  Rectory,  the 
news  of  Dr.  Arnold's  sudden  death  came  with  an 
inexpressible  shock,  —  M  seeming,"  said  one  of  the 
circle,  "  as  if  it  were  almost  a  law  of  Providence 
that,  when  to  all  human  eyes  the  greatest  good  is 
to  be  done,  the  person  is  taken  away ;  bringing 
home  the  vainness  of  all  human  speculation,  the 
crushing  of  human  judgment,  and  how  we  call 
evil  good,  and  good  evil."  Sympathy  with  Mrs. 
Arnold,  however,  overpowered  every  other  sensation, 
and  the  first  relief  came  from  the  thought  of  her 
at  Foxhow,  surrounded  with  the  remembrance  of 
him,  together  with  those  who  loved  and  valued 
him. 

"  In  an  idolatrous  age,"  wrote  Julius  Hare,  "  one  of 
the  men  we  most  need  is  an  idoloclast,  to  use  the  word 
which  Coleridge,  in  his  'Tombless  Epitaph,'  applies  to 
his  ideal  self.  Such  indeed  there  ever  will  be,  some 
frivolous,  some  reckless ;  but  the  idoloclasts  whom  we 
need,  and  who  alone  will  do  their  work  effectually  and 
beneficially,  are  such  as  are  at  once  zealous  and  fearless 
in  demolishing  the  reigning  idols,  and  at  the  same  time 
animated  with  a  reverent  love  for  the  ideas  which  those 
idols  carnalize  and  stifle.     Such  an  idoloclast  we  had 


HOME-LIFE   AT   LIME.  313 

in  Dr.  Arnold,  a  dauntless  lover  of  truth,  in  the  midst  of 
an  age  when  few  seek  or  care  for  any  truth,  except  such  as 
seems  to  pamper  their  already  bloated  predilections  and 
prepossessions.  From  his  unshakable  trust  in  the  God 
of  Truth,  under  the  assurance  that  God  is  Truth,  and 
that  Truth  can  never  be  against  God,  he  boldly  pursued 
it  at  all  risks,  in  the  spirit  of  the  sublime  prayer,  ev  8s 
cpuei  xai  oleaaov.  For  he  knew  that,  though  he  might 
perish,  God  would  live  ;  though  he  might  fall,  God  would 
triumph ;  and  he  felt  confident  that  every  time  Truth  is 
purged  with  a  careful  and  loving  hand  from  the  defile- 
ments wherewith  the  exhalations  of  the  world  are  con- 
tinually crusting  her  over,  her  form  and  features  will 
come  out  in  greater  beauty  and  glory.  ...  I  do  not  mean 
to  profess  an  entire  agreement  with  all  his  opinions :  on 
many  points  we  differed,  more  or  less  ;  but  whether  dif- 
fering or  agreeing,  when  I  turn  from  the  ordinary  theo- 
logical or  religious  writers  of  the  day  to  one  of  his 
volumes,  there  is  a  feeling,  as  it  were,  of  breathing  the 
fresh  mountain  air,  after  having  been  shut  up  in  the 
morbid  atmosphere  of  a  sick-room,  or  in  the  fumigated 
vapors  of  an  Italian  church.  He  did  indeed  yearn  after 
truth  and  righteousness,  with  yearnings  that  could  hardly 
be  uttered ;  and  to  hear  of  falsehood,  to  hear  of  injus- 
tice, pained  him  like  a  blow.  Therefore  is  his  death  felt 
almost  like  a  personal,  as  well  as  national  loss,  from  one 
end  of  England  to  the  other.  His  yearnings  now,  we 
may  trust,  through  the  Saviour  whom  he  delighted  to 
glorify,  are  stilled  with  the  contemplation  of  perfect 
Truth  and  perfect  Righteousness.  Oh  that  his  example 
and  his  teaching  may  arouse  others  to  a  like  zeal  in  the 
same  most  holy  cause  !  "  * 

*  J.  C.  Hare's  preface  to  vol.  iii.  of  Arnold's  "  History  of  Rome." 
14 


314  RECORDS   OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

In  these  years  of  1841  to  1843  my  mother  con- 
stantly committed  her  meditations  to  paper.  Ex- 
tracts from  these  may  not  perhaps  be  superfluous, 
as  assisting  to  give  a  picture  of  her  mind  at  this 
time. 

"Jan.  12,  1841.  —  I  suspect  it  is  a  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  the  Parables  are  an  easy  form  of  conveying 
divine  truth,  and  suited  to  beginners  in  religious  knowl- 
edge. Our  Lord  Himself  seems  to  assign  as  a  reason  for 
using  them  that  the  meaning  was  to  be  hidden  from  the 
multitude,  and  only  revealed  to  his  chosen  few  whose 
hearts  had  been  prepared  for  receiving  this  seed,  and  to 
whom  He  could  therefore  develop  its  full  fruit.  And 
experience  seems  to  confirm  the  truth  of  his  practice. 
To  children  and  to  the  poor  I  doubt  whether  the  Para- 
bles afford  much  of  interest.  The  outward  form  is  not 
of  sufficient  interest  in  itself  to  excite  much  lively  feel- 
ing, and  it  is  only  when  that  which  it  represents  is  present 
to  the  mind  that  it  assumes  importance.  This  as  a  living, 
self-apprehending  truth  can  only  be  to  those  who  are  in 
some  measure  advanced  in  spiritual  discernment.  To  the 
natural  mind  any  thing  of  personal  character  or  histori- 
cal narration  has  much  more  power  of  laying  hold  of  the 
mind  and  becoming  a  guide  to  the  knowledge  of  God's 
will.  And  when  we  see  the  exceeding  tendency  of  the 
young  to  imitation,  example  is  pointed  out  as  the  chief 
and  most  efficient  mode  of  instruction  before  abstract 
truths  can  be  brought  home  to  their  comprehension." 

"Feb.  20,  1841. — When  we  are  fullest  of  heavenly 
love  we  are  best  fitted  to  bear  with  human  infirmity,  to 
live  above  it  and  forget  its  burden.     It  is  the  absence  of 


HOME-LIFE   AT   LIME.  315 

love  to  Christ,  not  its  fulness,  that  makes  us  so  impa- 
tient of  the  weaknesses  and  inconsistencies  of  our  Chris- 
tian brethren.  Then  when  Christ  is  all  our  portion, 
when  He  dwells  with  us  and  in  us,  we  have  so  satisfying 
an  enjoyment  of  his  perfection,  that  the  imperfection  of 
others  is  as  it  were  swallowed  up,  and  the  sense  of  our 
own  nothingness  makes  us  insensible  to  that  which  is 
irritating  to  individual  feelings  and  habits. 

"  So  too  it  is  with  human  affection.  When  it  is  at  its 
height  we  can  bear  with  the  absence  of  the  person  be- 
loved best,  whereas  in  proportion  as  self  mingles  its 
depreciating  quality  in  the  love  bestowed  on  another, 
we  are  fretted  by  the  want  of  the  object  and  feel  the 
pressure  of  the  separation  the  most  severely." 

11  April  23,  1841.  — When  through  the  medium  of  old 
letters  or  any  other  means,  a  picture  is  placed  before  one 
of  one's  former  self,  there  is  a  strange  mixture  of  feel- 
ing, the  identity  being  still  preserved,  while  there  is  so 
much  of  change  and  difference  as  to  make  it  seem  al- 
most another  person :  so,  only  in  a  far  greater  degree, 
may  we  suppose  that  hereafter,  when  we  look  back  on 
our  existence  here,  we  shall  see  our  past  and  present 
self  as  being  one  and  yet  separate.  If  a  few  years  can 
so  transform  the  character  as  to  give  it  new  features  and 
teach  us  to  see  the  old  ones  in  their  true  light,  and  judge 
of  them  as  if  they- belonged  to  another,  what  will  be  the 
change  when  not  Time  alone  helps  us  to  this  clear  vis- 
ion, but  when  a  complete  alteration  of  state,  an  entrance 
into  regions  of  perfect  light,  gives  us  power  to  see  with 
new  eyes  and  discern  things  now  hidden  from  our  con- 
sciousness? When  in  God's  light  we  see  light,  when 
this  body  of  sin  is  cast  off,  and  our  self  is  swallowed  up 


316  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

in  Christ,  our  earthly  garments  exchanged  for  his  right- 
eousness, then  shall  we  look  on  our  past  life,  and  learn 
to  give  glory  to  God  for  all  his  wonderful  works  to  the 
children  of  men." 

"  The  praises  of  others  may  be  of  use  in  teaching  us, 
not  what  we  are,  but  what  we  ought  to  be." 

"  Self-depreciation  is  not  humility,  though  often  mis- 
taken for  it.     Its  source  is  oftener  mortified  pride." 

"  The  bulk  of  mankind  feel  the  reality  of  this  world, 
but  have  little  or  no  feeling  for  the  reality  of  the  next 
world.  They  who,  through  affliction  or  some  other 
special  cause,  have  had  their  hearts  withdrawn  from  the 
world  for  a  while,  and  been  living  in  closer  communion 
with  God,  will  sometimes  almost  cease  to  feel  the  reality 
of  this  world,  and  will  live  mainly  in  the  next.  The 
grand  difficulty  is  to  feel  the  reality  of  both,  so  as  to 
give  each  its  due  place  in  our  thoughts  and  feelings,  to 
keep  our  mind's  eye  and  our  heart's  eye  ever  fixed  on 
the  Land  of  Promise,  without  looking  away  from  the 
road  along  which  we  are  to  travel  towards  it." 

"  How  hard  it  seems  to  be  to  human  nature  in  relig- 
ious worship  to  preserve  a  due  reverence  for  forms  and 
not  to  turn  it  into  formality ;  in  other  words,  to  value 
the  means  God  gives  as  a  help  to  our  weakness,  without 
falling  down  and  worshipping  them.  Idolatry  is  still  as 
ever  the  ruling  tendency  of  the  mind,  and  when  the  idol 
is  dressed  up  in  a  semblance  of  truth,  its  worshippers 
are  not  easily  undeceived,  and  fancy  their  worship  has 
the  perfection  that  all  others  lack. 


HOME-LIFE   AT  LIME.  317 

"  Christ  says,  '  He  that  is  not  against  us  is  for  us.' 
In  these  days  there  is  another  doctrine  taught,  — '  He 
that  follows  not  with  us  —  with  all  that  we  hold  as  nec- 
essary—  with  all  that  we  think  expedient,  he  must  be 
against  us.'  The  middle  wall  of  partition  is,  alas  !  not 
done  away.  It  still  separates  Christian  from  Christian, 
even  those  who  have  been  taught  through  the  same 
Spirit  to  find  access  unto  the  Father." 

"  To  judge  of  Christianity  from  the  lives  of  ordinary, 
nominal  Christians,  is  about  as  just  as  it  would  be  to 
judge  of  tropical  fruits  and  flowers  from  the  produce 
which  the  same  plants  might  bring  forth  in  Iceland." 

"  It  is  very  common  to  mistake  emotion  for  feeling, 
excitement  caused  by  outward  things  for  inward  devo- 
tion. If  the  power  of  the  Spirit  were  within  the  heart  to 
move  and  touch  it,  there  would  be  less  need  of  external 
means  to  affect  the  senses  and  imagination.  Are  we 
not  then  to  have  recourse  to  outward  helps  ?  Yes,  but 
only  in  such  a  degree  as  to  keep  in  subordination  the 
natural  love  of  what  is  visible  and  sensual,  and  so  as  not 
to  lose  the  consciousness  of  our  need  of  internal  im- 
pulses to  be  kindled  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  It  is  neither 
images,  pictures,  nor  churches,  but  it  is  '  the  Spirit  that 
helpeth  our  infirmities  '  and  'teaches  us  how  to  pray.'  " 

"  I  saw  two  oaks  standing  side  by  side.  The  one 
was  already  clothed  in  tender  green  leaves ;  the  other 
was  still  in  its  wintry  bareness,  showing  few  signs  of  re- 
viving life.  Whence  arose  this  ?  The  influences  of  sun 
and  air  and  sky  must  have  been  the  same  on  both  trees ; 
their  nearness  seemed  to  bespeak  a  like  soil ;  no  out- 


3l8  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

ward  cause  was  apparent  to  account  for  the  difference. 
It  must  therefore  have  been  something  within,  something 
in  their  internal  structure  and  organization.  But  wait 
awhile :  in  a  month  or  two  both  the  trees  will  perhaps 
be  equally  rich  in  their  summer  foliage  ;  nay,  that  which 
is  slowest  in  unfolding  its  leaves  may  then  be  the  most 
vigorous  and  luxuriant. 

"  So  it  is  often  with  children  in  the  same  family, 
brought  up  under  the  same  influences :  while  one  grows 
and  advances  daily  under  them,  another  may  seem  to 
stand  still.  But  after  a  time  there  is  a  change  ;  and  he 
that  was  last  may  even  become  first,  and  the  first  last. 

"So  too  it  is  with  God's  spiritual  children.  Not  ac- 
cording to  outward  calculations,  but  after  the  working  of 
his  grace,  is  their  outward  life  manifested:  often  the 
hidden  growth  is  unseen  till  the  season  is  far  advanced, 
and  then  it  bursts  forth  in  double  beauty  and  power." 

"  When  the  love  of  God  has  taken  possession  of  the 
soul,  and  the  whole  man  is  consecrated  to  his  service, 
life  loses  its  fragmentary  character,  and  one  guiding 
stream  seems  to  run  through  it.  Then  all  varying  and 
apparently  disjointed  circumstances  and  duties  find  a 
fixed  and  appointed  place,  and  though,  through  the 
weakness  of  the  flesh,  the  surface  of  things  may  seem  to 
be  ruffled,  there  is  a  strong  undercurrent  that  cannot  be 
diverted  from  its  object,  but  is  ever  flowing  on  to  its  one 
point,  widening  and  strengthening  as  it  goes,  and  so 
mastering  all  that  opposes  its  progress.  Many  a  little 
rock  or  eddy,  that  early  in  its  course  would  turn  it  aside, 
are,  as  it  becomes  more  powerful,  swept  away  or  passed 
over.  And  still  more  perhaps  are  the  very  hindrances  that 
thwarted  turned  into  ministers  to  help  its  course.     The 


HOME-LIFE   AT   LIME.  319 

stronger  and  more  fixedly  the  soul  is  set  upon  one  ob- 
ject, so  much  the  more  does  it  find  power  to  overcome  all 
difficulties,  and  despise  all  that  may  be  only  outward  or 
accidental.  So  doth  it  gain  the  victory  over  the  world, 
the  flesh,  and  the  devil." 

"  Epithets  are  for  the  most  part  the  comment  which 
we  put  on  facts  related.  They  furnish  our  view  of  the 
matter,  or  our  opinion  of  the  person  concerned. 

"  A  preacher  ought  to  give  us  not  merely  a  statement 
of  Truth,  but  his  own  testimony  that  it  is  Truth.  Herein 
a  sermon  differs  from  a  book,  —  that  we  have  the  living 
voice  bearing  witness  to  that  which  we  are  taught  to 
believe,  and  setting  his  seal  that  it  is  true." 

"  In  proportion  to  the  earnestness  and  force  with 
which  the  Spirit  impresses  the  truth  upon  the  heart  of 
the  preacher,  will  his  words  produce  an  effect  upon  his 
hearers,  for  in  such  proportion  will  he  speak  with  power 
and  truth." 

"  Prejudice  magnifies  faults :  love  magnifies  virtues." 

"  What  is  bigotry  ?     What  is  prejudice  ? 

"That  is  commonly  so  called  which  opposes  our 
opinion,  —  that  view  of  things  which  is  contrary  to  our 
own.  May  it  not  be  more  truly  described  as  that  which 
sees  nothing  but  good  in  our  thoughts  of  persons  and 
things,  and  that  which  judges  harshly  of  the  thoughts  of 
others  ?  He  is  a  bigot,  who  can  descry  no  good  in  any 
mode  of  life  or  of  thought  but  his  own.  He  is  preju- 
diced who  judges  of  things  or  people  not  by  what  they 
really  are,  but  by  some  preconception,  formed  without 
real   knowledge   of  the   true  facts.      So  delusive  and 


320  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

blinding  is  this  feeling,  that  let  there  be  any  amount  of 
kindness  shown,  or  wisdom  spoken,  it  falls  dead  upon 
the  mind  that  is  prejudiced.  No  entrance  is  possible 
when  the  ground  is  already  occupied  by  a  prejudice  of 
long  standing,  although  it  may  have  first  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  mind  from  hasty  and  insufficient  causes,  gen- 
erally from  some  injury  to  self-love  or  self-will.  Freedom 
from  self  and  the  love  of  truth  are  the  elements  of  a 
candid  spirit." 

"  So  closely  does  self-love  cling  to  us,  that  when 
through  God's  mercy  the  inward  eye  is  opened  to  dis- 
cern the  ugliness  within,  we  are  still  continually  tempted 
to  look  through  a  false  medium  and  see  ourselves  with 
the  partial  eyes  of  others,  —  this  being  one  of  the  rare 
cases  in  which  we  are  willing  to  esteem  their  judgment 
superior  to  our  own." 

"  Slow  as  we  are  to  worship  God  in  any  way,  prayer 
is  ever  a  more  ready  offering  than  praise.  Is  there  not 
often  in  the  heart  a  secret  feeling  that  offering  of  thanks 
is  a  waste  of  time,  —  there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  it  ? 
So  prone  is  Mammon  to  put  forth  his  claims  even  in  our 
spiritual  concerns." 

"August  30,  1841. — When  we  look  down  from  a 
great  height,  all  unevennesses  in  the  surface  below  seem 
to  be  lost,  all  appears  smooth.  The  little  boat  rides  in 
the  still  sea,  there  is  no  perceptible  movement  save  that 
by  which  it  ever  draws  near  to  the  haven  whither  it  is 
going,  although  to  those  within  that  boat  it  may  be  there 
is  a  continual  rolling  motion,  as  wave  after  wave  is 
passed  over.  So  will  it  doubtless  be,  when  from  a  far 
higher  elevation  we  look  down  on  the  troubled  waves  of 


HOME-LIFE   AT    LIME.  321 

life  that  we  have  passed  through.  No  trace  will  be  left 
of  the  course  through  the  waters,  whether  it  has  been 
smooth  or  rough  j  if  that  course  has  led  our  little  vessel 
safe  to  its  harbor  in  the  breast  of  Jesus,  all  will  be  for- 
gotten but  the  blessedness  of  a  way  that  could  lead  to 
such  perfect  rest.  And  is  it  a  visionary  thought,  that 
now,  while  we  are  still  tossing  to  and  fro,  in  the  ever- 
changing  waves  of  human  life,  it  is  still  possible  that  we 
might  mount  up  on  eagle's  wings  to  a  blue  sky  above 
the  earth,  and  from  thence  look  down  as  it  were  on  our- 
selves and  all  our  trials  here  below,  and  lift  up  our  hearts 
into  a  region  of  such  calm  and  heavenly  serenity,  that 
from  thence  all  things  would  seem  to  us  as  light  com- 
pared with  the  weight  of  glory  around  us  ?  Oh,  if  we 
could  dwell  continually  in  such  a  high  and  lofty  atmos- 
phere, our  short-sighted  fears  and  doubts  would  flee 
away,  we  should  in  light  see  light,  and  darkness  would 
be  swallowed  up  in  its  fulness.  But  we  are  bound  to 
earth  so  fast  that  though  our  prayers  rise  heavenward, 
our  views  are  still  directed  towards  earth,  and  fenced  in 
by  many  a  thorny  hedge  or  entangled  wood,  and  we 
cannot  see  clearly  because  we  look  on  all  around  from 
the  place  we  now  fill,  instead  of  rising  up  ourselves  into 
heavenly  places,  and  from  thence  looking  down  on  all 
things  passing  around  us.  If  our  life  were  indeed  hid 
with  Christ  in  God,  if  we  could  realize  any  thing  of 
the  height  and  depth  of  that  mysterious  life,  we  should 
be  kept  in  peace,  even  though  the  sea  should  roar  and 
all  its  fulness.  The  Lord  on  High  is  mightier  than  the 
noise  of  many  waters,  yea,  and  in  his  strength  we  too 
should  be  strong,  our  vision  would  be  like  his,  eternal ; 
we  should  see  and  behold  —  all  things  are  good !  " 
"  Oct.  27,  1841.  —  It  is  one  of  the  hardest  things  in 
14*  u 


322  RECORDS    OF   A    QUIET   LIFE. 

the  world  to  be  true  to  one's  self  in  one's  intercourse  with 
others.  There  is  scarcely  any  thing  that  requires  more 
real  courage.  The  nearest  approach  to  it  is  with  a 
bosom  friend,  when  heart  meets  heart,  and  when  the 
love  that  covers  all  sins  makes  disguise  needless,  and  all 
the  inmost  thoughts  and  feelings  are  laid  bare  without 
fear  or  restraint.  In  proportion  as  we  are  more  and 
more  removed  from  this  oneness  of  mind  with  others 
are  we  tempted  to  be  untrue  to  ourselves.  Sometimes 
the  fear  of  giving  offence  may  be  the  cause,  oftentimes 
the  dislike  of  seeming  to  be  better  than  others  ;  in  per- 
sons of  a  nervous  temperament  there  is  a  sensitiveness 
to  the  influence  of  those  around  them,  leading  them  from 
their  own  real  feelings  to  an  agreement  with  the  opinion 
of  others  for  the  time.  When  placed  in  any  new  or  un- 
common situation,  there  is  an  effort  attending  it  which 
draws  away  from  the  simple  and  natural  expression  of 
ourselves  by  manner  or  words.  When  persons  begin 
teaching  others,  there  is  almost  always  an  artificial  man- 
ner created,  and  when  strangers  first  become  acquainted, 
how  little  is  there  of  true  freedom  from  all  put-on  con- 
versation and  manner.  The  more  truly  Christian  is  our 
spirit,  the  more  we  shall  rise  out  of  this  bondage  which 
is  of  the  earth  earthly,  to  preserve  our  truth  and  up- 
rightness of  character,  and  to  be  in  all  places,  and  at 
all  times,  and  with  all  people,  one  and  the  same  —  not 
equally  open  or  equally  communicative,  but  equally  free 
from  what  is  artincialand  constrained,  and  steadfast  in 
keeping  fast  hold  of  those  principles  and  feelings  which 
we  know  to  be  according  to  God's  will  and  law  — 
equally  free  from  all  pretence  of  knowing  more  than  we 
do  know,  or  of  feeling  more  than  we  do  feel,  while 
we  are  not  ashamed  to  confess  those  things  which  we 
do  believe  and  feel  in  our  inmost  selves." 


HOME-LIFE   AT   LIME.  323 

"August  30,  1842.  — Marriage  is  a  type  of  the  union 
between  Christ  and  his  Church,  as  being  the  closest 
and  most  enduring  of  all  those  relations  which  God  has 
appointed  here  below.  But  it  is  chiefly  so  in  showing 
forth  the  reality  of  a  tie  which  is  deeper  and  stronger 
than  that  of  flesh  and  blood  in  the  natural  family  feelings 
of  affection.  It  is  the  knitting  into  one  of  two  separate 
and  distinct  persons,  who  have  not  been  tied  to  each 
other  by  the  outward  circumstances  of  God's  provi- 
dence, as  is  the  case  in  all  other  natural  relationships, 
but  who,  through  their  own  free  choice,  from  affinity  of 
character  or  dispositions,  are  drawn  to  each  other  in  a 
mysterious  and  inward  manner,  and  who,  through  this 
instinctive  preference  of  each  other,  yearn  to  be  one. 
So  it  is  with  the  union  of  Christ  and  his  body  the 
Church.  It  must  not  be  an  outward  tie,  growing  out  of 
the  circumstances  of  our  birth,  our  country,  our  oppor- 
tunities :  it  must  be  an  inward  and  spiritual  longing  to 
be  one,  because  we  are  of  one  mind  and  one  heart,  be- 
cause we  desire  what  He  desires,  because  we  love  what 
He  loves.  It  must  not  be  a  matter  of  duty,  as  our  duty 
to  parents,  nor  of  love,  as  our  love  to  our  brethren  is  ;  it 
must  be  higher  and  deeper,  a  free  gift,  — -  the  gift  of  our 
whole  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and  body." 

Maria  Hare's  Journal  ("The  Green  Book"). 

"  Hurstmonceaux,  Sept  10.  —  For  some  years  past, 
since  I  have  been  led  to  know  more  of  the  principles  of 
Church  Life,  as  they  are  called,  of  those  which  concern 
us  as  members  of  a  Church  constituted  in  this  land  for 
the  special  need  of  Christian  people,  I  have  had  much 
ignorance  removed,  and  many  useful  thoughts  opened 
to  me  that  before  I  was  dead  to.     And  the  feeling  con- 


324  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

scious  that  I  had  neglected  and  overlooked  much  that 
was  of  benefit  has  seemed  to  make  me  afraid  of  es- 
teeming things  wrong  because  contrary  to  previous 
impressions ;  but  I  think  in  the  last  year,  since  these 
Church  opinions  are  become  less  strange  to  me,  I  have 
felt  more  and  more  how  unsatisfying  they  are,  and  that 
the  Catholic  doctrines  they  are  grounded  on  are  second- 
ary and  subordinate  to  the  Evangelical  ones  that  are 
built  on  the  word  of  God.  I  strive  and  desire  in  love 
and  meekness  to  refrain  from  all  judgment  of  persons 
who  hold  such  opinions,  but  I  do  return  I  confess  to 
writers  of  simpler  and  more  scriptural  character,  to 
those  who  have  more  insight  into  the  depths  of  spiritual 
experience,  with  the  feeling  as  if  I  were  landed  again 
on  solid  ground  after  floating  in  a  misty  cloud.  And 
though  in  practical  things  I  find  much  that  is  good  in 
the  Catholic  school,  there  is  so  great  a  want  of  motive 
and  principle  of  love  in  them  to  stir  one  up  to  do  the 
good  works.  It  is  so  exclusively  for  self  that  they  urge 
us,  that  we  may  be  holy,  not  that  God  may  be  glorified, 
that  I  feel  more  and  more  that  the  true  spirit  of  apostles 
and  martyrs  is  not  there,  that  according  to  them  it  is  not 
of  grace  that  we  are  to  be  saved,  but  of  holy  deeds  j  not 
by  the  merits  of  Jesus,  but  by  our  own  self-denial,  our 
obedience,  and  patience." 

During  the  spring  of  1844,  the  intimacy  between 
my  mother  and  her  friend  Esther  Maurice  had 
greatly  increased,  and  the  latter  had  passed  some 
time  at  Hurstmonceaux,  where  the  Marcus  Hares 
were  also  staying. 

In  July  we  went  to  the  Lakes,  my  Uncle  Julius 
and  Esther  Maurice  accompanying  us,  and  the  in- 


HOME-LIFE    AT   LIME.  325 

timacy  thus  engendered  led  to  their  engagement,' 
and  to  their  marriage  in  the  following  November. 

Maria  Hare  to  Rev.  Oswald  Leycester. 

"  Foxhow,  July  18,  1844.  — We  are  safely  at  the  end 
of  our  journey,  and  at  this  most  lovely  spot.  It  was 
about  half-past  five  when  we  got  here,  when  we  received 
a  hearty  welcome  from  Mrs.  Arnold  and  all  the  family. 
Well  indeed  does  this  place  deserve  the  praise  bestowed 
on  it  by  Dr.  Arnold.  The  room  in  which  I  sit  looks  out 
on  a  fine  range  of  mountains  closing  in  a  beautiful  green 
valley,  of  which  the  flower-garden  belonging  to  this 
house  makes  the  foreground  j  and  at  the  foot  of  the 
garden  the  clear  river  Rotha  sparkles  and  bubbles  along, 
dividing  the  pleasure-ground  from  the  meadows. 

"  This  place  is  perfect  for  Mrs.  Arnold,  associated  as 
it  is  with  him  she  has  lost ;  and  this  beautiful  scenery 
must  be  soothing  to  her  mind  when  she  looks  around 
and  sees  God's  hand  so  visible  in  these  his  works.  We 
have  had  the  Wordsworths  here,  and  this  evening  go 
to  them.  He  is  most  kind-hearted,  with  all  the  simplic- 
ity and  love  of  nature  that  his  poetry  bespeaks,  and  he 
and  Julius  have  much  pleasant  conversation  together,  to 
which  we  listen.  We  make  this  our  headquarters  till 
the  Stanleys  come  to  fill  our  places,  and  with  the  beauty 
of  the  scenery  and  this  happy  family  party  we  thor- 
oughly enjoy  our  visit." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

"  Foxhow,  July  19. —  We  have  been  this  afternoon 
to  Rydal  Falls,  which  were  quite  beautiful,  and  the 
gleams  of  sunshine  playing  through  the  trees  and  deep 
gloom  of  the  chasm  were  most  picturesque.     Afterwards 


326  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

we  went  to  the  Mount.  The  poet  is  a  good  deal  older 
than  my  impression,  which  was  from  the  bust,  but  in 
plainness  and  simplicity  of  manner  quite  what  I  ex- 
pected. I  was  most,  however,  attracted  by  the  sweet 
old  face  of  Mrs.  Wordsworth.  There  was  general  con- 
versation for  a  little  while,  and  then  Mrs.  Arnold  asked 
for  me  to  see  the  terrace,  and  Mr.  Wordsworth  (how  odd 
Mr.  sounds  to  his  name)  took  me  by  the  arm  and  led  me 
to  the  Mount  and  along  his  garden  walks  to  the  terrace 
looking  on  Rydal  water,  expatiating  as  he  went  along 
on  the  different  objects  and  on  the  changes  that  had 
taken  place,  with  those  nice  touches  in  the  perception 
of  beauty  which  one  sees  in  his  poetry." 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hark 

"Lime,  Sept  24,  1844. — As  I  write  this  date,  it  re- 
minds me  of  how  blessed  a  day  this  is  to  you,  my  own 
Luce,  and  how  much  you  are  feeling  to-day  in  the  thought 
of  the  eleven  years  that  have  passed  since  you  and  your 
dearest  Marcus  were  one.  .  .  .  But  our  thoughts  this 
morning  have  been  engaged  not  in  marriage  thoughts, 
but  in  those  of  death  and  resurrection.  I  went  up  to 
breakfast  at  the  rectory,  and  at  half -past  nine  dear  Jule 
read  the  Burial  Service,  which  at  that  hour  was  to  be 
read  over  the  remains  of  dear,  dear  Sterling!  On 
Friday  morning,  at  Guys,  arrived  the  sad  tidings  that 
his  noble  spirit  had  departed.  Immediately  they  de- 
cided, Frederick  Maurice,  Julius,  and  Esther,  to  go  to 
Ventnor  to  have  one  last  look.  They  reached  it  at  nine 
o'clock  at  night,  and  there,  by  the  death-bed  of  him  who 
had  first  united  them  in  his  own  mind,  did  our  two  dear 
ones  kneel  and  pray  together,  —  a  solemn  bridal.  .  .  . 
Julius  said  he  had  such  a  beautiful  smile  on  his  face, 


HOME-LIFE    AT   LIME.  327 

and  looked  as  if  asleep.  When  the  end  was  drawing 
near,  no  one  knew  how  near,  he  asked  Annie  Maurice 
for  his  Hurstmonceaux  Bible,  the  one  he  used  in  the 
cottages,  and  talked  of  visiting  the  poor  here,  and  how 
he  should  devote  himself  to  the  poor  in  the  worst  parts 
of  London  if  he  had  health  and  strength  again.  A  few 
hours  after  he  had  breathed  his  last. 

"  For  Julius  and  Esther  it  will  be  a  time  never  to 
pass  away;  and  if  they  had  needed  any  warning  to 
remind  them  that  'here  is  not  our  abiding  city,'  and 
that  their  earthly  continuance  together  could  not  be  for 
ever,  here  they  had  it  brought  home  with  power.  But  I 
feel  as  if  I  had  been  there  with  them :  I  cannot  speak 
of  it  calmly." 

Maria  Hare  to  Miss  Clinton. 

"Hurstmonceaux  Rectory,  Jan.  11,  1845.  —  I  have 
not  written  to  you  since  I  came  to  stay  at  the  Rectory, 
and  Julius,  Esther,  and  I  began  our  threefold  life.  .  .  . 
You  may  think  how  pleasant  it  is  to  me  to  see  my  two 
dear  ones  together,  and  to  share  their  happiness.  Every 
morning  after  breakfast  we  have  a  reading  together  of 
Isaiah :  Esther  with  her  Hebrew  Bible,  Jule  with  his 
German  Commentary.  Then  I  go  to  Augustus  and  his 
lessons,  and  they  set  to  their  writing,  in  which  she  is 
sometimes  able  to  help  him  in  transcribing,  but  much 
more  by  keeping  him  to  his  work,  and  taking  off  all  the 
hindrances  that  arise." 

The  summer  of  1845  was  an  eventful  one  in  our 
quiet  life.  In  June,  my  mother  paid  her  first  visit 
since  the  year  of  her  widowhood  to  her  beloved 
Alton  home,  and,  overpowering  as  were  the  associ- 


328  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE, 


ations  which  thronged  upon  her,  at  the  first  sight 
of  the  White  Horse,  and  the  thatched  cottages 
embosomed  in  their  tufted  elm-trees,  the  heart-felt 
burst  of  loving  welcome  with  which  the  simple 
villagers  received  her  amply  repaid  the  effort. 
Amongst  her  cottage  visits,  I  especially  remember 
one  to  an  old  man  named  William  Pontin,  who 
after  thanking  her  heartily  for  her  "respectable 
gift "  said,  "  I  do  thank  God  every  morning  and 
every  night,  that  I  do ;  but  thank  'un  as  I  may,  I 
can  never  thank  'un  enough  ;  He  be  so  awful  good 
to  I ;  and  then  it  just  is  comfortable  for  I  to  feel 
that  the  Almighty's  always  at  w'hom,  —  He  never 
goes  out  on  a  visit." 

On  leaving  Alton,  we  joined  the  Marcus  Hares 
at  Swindon,  and  with  them  underwent  the  terror  of 
a  frightful  railway  accident,  near  Slough.  They 
accompanied  us  to  Hurstmonceaux,  and  spent  the 
summer  at  the  Rectory,  where  my  uncle  Marcus 
Hare,,  after  a  short  illness,  passed  peacefully  into 
rest,  on  July  30.  On  the  4th  of  August,  his  body 
was  laid  amid  the  group  of  honored  graves  which 
was  fast  gathering  around  the  yew-tree  in  Hurst- 
monceaux churchyard. 

Maria  Hare's  Journal. 

"Hurstmonceaux,  1845.  —  On  Thursday  evening  (Juty 
24),  as  we  returned  from  Lewes,  we  were  stopped  as  we 
were  driving  up  to  the  Rectory  with  the  news  that  dear 
Marcus  was  alarmingly  worse.  .  .  .  There  were  fluctua- 
tions till  the  following  Tuesday,  when  all  hope  faded  away. 


HOME-LIFE   AT   LIME.  329 

That  afternoon  he  asked, '  Where  is  the  Mia,'  and  taking 
my  hand  he  said,  '  Lucy  was  given  to  console  you,  and 
you  are  given  to  console  her,  —  and  the  children  will  be 
yours  too.'  He  desired  at  five  o'clock  that  the  children 
might  be  sent  for  from  Lime,  and  he  spoke  to  each  of 
them,  and  blessed  them.  At  four  a.  m.,  on  Wednesday 
morning,  I  felt  the  last  moments  were  approaching,  and 
called  Julius  and  Esther.  In  a  few  minutes  they  knelt 
with  us  by  the  bedside  of  our  departing  brother.  Julius 
offered  up  two  prayers  from  the  visitation  service,  and 
then  read  the  71st  Psalm.  As  we  began  to  repeat  the 
Gloria  Patri,  dear  Marcus's  breath  began  to  intermit, 
and  as  we  joined  in  the  Amen  his  last  gentle  sigh 
escaped  him.  We  again  knelt  by  the  bedside,  and 
Julius  uttered  our  heart-felt  thanks,  in  the  words  of  the 
Burial  Prayer,  to  Him  who  had  so  graciously  '  delivered 
our  Marcus  from  the  burden  of  the  flesh  and  the  miseries 
of  this  sinful  world,  to  dwell  with  Him  in  joy  and  felicity.' 
"  The  beautiful  dawning  of  the  summer  morning,  the 
glorious  sun  that  shed  its  light  on  all  around,  and  that 
entered  that  chamber  of  death,  seemed  truly  the  out- 
ward type  of  that  blessed  Resurrection  life  which  he 
had  now  begun.  '  There  shall  be  no  night  there  ;  and 
they  need  no  candle,  neither  light  of  the  sun,  for  the 
Lord  God  giveth  them  light,  and  they  shall  reign  for 
ever  and  ever.' " 

Maria  Hare  to  Augustus  J.  C.  Hare. 

"  Lime,  March  11,  1850.  — In  two  days  more  you  will 
be  sixteen  years  old !  I  can  scarcely  believe  that  my 
dear  tittle  child,  who  used  to  run  by  my  side,  and  play 
with  the  flowers  he  had  gathered,  is  indeed  so  nearly 
approaching  manhood.  .  .  .  You  are  now  old  enough 


330  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

to  seek  after  knowledge  for  knowledge's  sake,  and  to 
desire  to  learn  correctly  and  solidly  what  you  can.     A 
mere  smattering  of  knowledge  is  worth  nothing,  and 
I  hope  my  Augustus  will  be  something  more  than  a 
mere  dilettante,  —  one  who  only  skinis  over  the  surface 
of  learning,  picking  out  that  part  which  is  pleasant  or 
agreeable,  and  leaving  out  the  rest.      In  every  thing 
there  must  be  pains  and  labor  taken  to  master  the  diffi- 
culties,  and   acquire   the   uninteresting   and   dry  part, 
which  may  be  called  the  bones  of  the  system,  whatever 
it  is.     There  may  be  taste  and  beauty  in  a  drawing,  but 
if  the  perspective  be  faulty  and  the  lines  crooked,  it 
cannot  be  really  well  done.      So  it  is  in  languages : 
there  may  be  pleasure  in  the  writings  of  poets  or  histo- 
rians, but  numberless  errors  will  be  made  in  translation 
as  in  composition  if  there  is  no  accurate  knowledge  of 
the  grammar.     And  it  is  not  only  because  of  the  attain- 
ments of  study  that  it  is  needful  to  be  diligent,  but  be- 
cause it  is  only  through  this  discipline  of  mind  that  the 
character  can  be  formed  rightly,  and  the  extravagancies 
of  imagination  so  sobered  that  one  can  see  things  truly 
and  accurately.     In  a  Life  of  Socrates  which  I  have 
been  reading,  it  is  mentioned  that  the  great  business  of 
Socrates  was  in  his  public  speeches  to  convince  the 
people  that  they  had  ■  a  conceit  of  knowledge  instead  of 
the  reality ; '  and  this  is  exactly  what  you  will  find  to  be 
your  case  by  discovering,  as  you  learn  more,  that  as  yet 
you  know  only  the  outside  and  superficial  part." 


XVI. 

FAILING  HEALTH  AND   FOREIGN  TRAVEL* 

u  We  know  for  us  a  rest  remains, 

When  God  will  give  us  sweet  release 
From  earth  and  all  our  mortal  chains, 
And  turn  our  sufferings  into  peace. 
What  we  have  won  with  pain  we  hold  more  fast, 
What  tarrieth  long  is  sweeter  at  the  last. 
Be  thou  content." 

Paul  Gerhardt. 

"C^ROM  the  time  of  her  widowhood,  in  1834,  to 
■*■  the  end  of  1850,  my  mother's  life  had  been 
passed  in  almost  complete  seclusion.  She  had 
never  left  home  except  to  visit  the  immediate  circle 
of  near  relations,  whose  life  was  almost  one  with 
hers,  and,  in  the  summer  of  1849,  t0  Pav  a  l°ng 
visit  at  Haslar  to  Sir  Edward  Parry,  who,  from 
early  association,  was  regarded  by  her  with  almost 
sisterly  affection.  From  this  time  circumstances 
brought  a  change  in  the  routine  of  her  life.  The 
desire  of  giving  pleasure  to  her  son  was  her  first 
incentive  to  the  foreign  travel,  which  proved  so 
beneficial  to  her  health,  that  it  was  ever  afterwards 
resorted  to  as  a  remedy  in  her  various  illnesses,  and 
which  was  certainly  the  means  of  preserving  her 
precious  life  for  many  years  to  those  who  loved  her. 


332  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

In  July,  185 1,  we  went  for  a  few  weeks  to  Rouen, 
Caen,  and  Falaise,  and  were  on  that  occasion  first 
accompanied  by  her  cousin,  Miss  Leycester,  the 
loving  companion  and  tender  friend  who  shared  the 
anxieties  of  many  after  years  of  sorrow  and  sickness. 
From  Lisieux  we  paid  an  interesting  visit  to  M. 
Guizot  in  his  beautiful  chateau  of  Val  Richer.  The 
autumn  and  winter  were  spent  quietly  at  Hurst- 
monceaux.  In  the  spring  of  185 1  my  Uncle  Julius 
had  the  first  of  the  alarming  illnesses  which  ter- 
minated fatally  in  1855.  In  that  spring  also  he 
received  a  severe  shock  in  the  secession  of  his 
friend  and  co- Archdeacon,  Henry  Manning,  to  the 
Church  of  Rome. 

Maria  Hare  to  Augustus  J.  C.  Hare. 

"April  8.  —  Archdeacon  Manning  came  here  on 
Friday  last.  Uncle  Julius  was  afraid  it  was  meant  as 
a  farewell  visit,  and  so  it  proved,  though  he  said  not 
a  word  which  could  imply  that  it  was  so.  Yesterday 
came  the  sad  news  that  on  Sunday  last  he  had  joined 
the  Church4  of  Rome !  " 

Archdeacon  Hare  to  his  Clergy. 

"Alas!  by  a  mysterious  dispensation,  through  the 
dark  gloom  of  which  my  eyes  have  vainly  striven  to 
pierce,  we  have  to  mourn  over  the  loss,  we  have  to 
mourn  over  the  defection  and  desertion  of  one  whom 
we  have  long  been  accustomed  to  honor,  to  reverence, 
to  love ;  of  one  who,  for  the  last  ten  years,  has  taken  a 
leading  part  in  every  measure  adopted  for  the  good  of 
the  diocese ;   of  one  to  whose  eloquence  we  have  so 


FAILING   HEALTH   AND   FOREIGN   TRAVEL.      333 

often  listened  with  delight,  sanctified  by  the  holy  pur- 
poses that  eloquence  was  ever  used  to  promote ;  of  one, 
the  clearness  of  whose  spiritual  vision  it  seemed  like 
presumption  to  distrust,  and  the  purity  of  whose  heart, 
the  sanctity  of  whose  motives,  no  one  knowing  him  can 
question.  For  myself,  associated  as  I  have  been  with 
him  officially,  and  having  found  one  of  the  chief  bless- 
ings of  my  office  in  that  association,  —  accustomed  to 
work  along  with  him  in  so  many  undertakings,  to  receive 
encouragement  and  help  from  his  godly  wisdom,  and, 
notwithstanding  many  differences  and  almost  opposition 
of  opinion,  to  take  sweet  counsel  together,  and  walk  in 
the  house  of  God  as  brothers,  —  I  can  only  wonder  at  the 
inscrutable  dispensation  by  which  such  a  man  has  been 
allowed  to  fall  under  so  withering,  soul-deadening  a 
spell,  —  and  repeat  with  awe  to  myself  and  to  my  friends, 
1  Let  him  who  thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed  lest  he 
fall.' " 

In  1852  an  accident  in  her  own  garden,  and  the 
long  confinement  consequent  upon  it,  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  ill-health,  from  which,  though 
spared  to  us  for  many  years,  my  mother  never 
entirely  recovered.  Henceforward  her  gentle  life 
was  often  filled  with  much  suffering  to  herself,  and 
with  great  anxiety  to  those  who  watched  her.  The 
form  of  her  malady  was  peculiarly  trying  to  one  of 
her  active  mind,  and  to  one  who  had  hitherto  found 
her  chief  earthly  interest  in  intellectual  pursuits; 
she  had  no  acute  pain,  but  a  general  oppression, 
deafness,  and  trembling  in  every  limb  followed  any 
exposure  to  cold  or  damp,  and,  in  the  earlier  years 


334  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

of  her  illness,  became  most  apparent  in  the  spring 
months,  when  her  system  was  weakened  by  the 
long  cold  of  the  winter.  When  any  mental  agi- 
tation aggravated  the  symptoms,  complete  uncon- 
sciousness ensued,  and  she  often  remained  entirely 
insensible,  icily  cold,  neither  heart  nor  pulse  seem- 
ing to  beat,  for  many  hours  together,  in  which  to  all 
appearance  life  was  totally  extinct;  but  at  such 
times  she  was  always  restored  to  us  after  a  period 
of  terrible  anxiety,  rather  better  than  worse  for 
what  she  had  undergone,  and  believing  (as  long  as 
the  remembrance  lasted)  that  she  had  been  enjoy- 
ing all  the  beatitude  of  heaven.  At  other  times 
she  would  lie  in  a  state  of  '  waking  coma,'  not  in- 
sensible, but  unconscious  to  outward  things,  hearing 
the  angels  singing  to  her,  and  wandering  mentally 
amid  scenes  of  unfathomable  beauty.  Her  visions 
never  took  any  form  but  those  of  loveliness,  her 
impressions  never  breathed  any  thing  but  peace  ; 
indeed,  her  unconscious  was  but  a  reflection  of 
her  conscious  life.  When  the  hot  weather  returned, 
especially  if  she  had  the  assistance  of  elastic  foreign 
air  to  aid  her  restoration,  she  entirely  recovered, 
and  retained  no  recollection  in  the  autumn  of  what 
had  passed  in  the  spring  months. 

Maria  Hare  (Note-Book). 

"  How  many  of  the  perplexities  of  the  world,  the 
mysteries  of  life,  and  the  confusions  of  philosophy, 
would  be  removed  by  a  simple  and  clear  apprehension 
of  the  Scripture  truths,  that '  the  heart  is  deceitful  above 


FAILING   HEALTH   AND    FOREIGN   TRAVEL.      335 

all  things,'  and  that  '  all  have  sinned  and  come  short  of 
the  glory  of  God.'  " 

"  The  most  difficult  of  all  attainments  is  self-distrust." 

"  If  we  would  be  united,  it  must  be  by  looking  to  the 
same  centre.  Is  it  not  to  teach  us  that  here  alone  we 
shall  find  the  true  bond  of  unity,  that  so  many  different 
sects  are  permitted  in  the  Body  of  Christ  ? 

"  ■  As  Thou  art  in  me,  and  I  in  Thee,  that  they  also 
may  be  one  in  us.' 

"  In  Christ  we  may  all  join  in  one  spirit,  and  so  form 
one  body,  whatever  be  the  diversities  of  worship,  doc- 
trine, or  tastes. 

"  The  longing  for  a  visible  Head  is  probably  to  pre- 
pare us  for  the  coming  of  the  true  and  only  Head  of  the 
Church." 

"The  catechism  of  the  world  adds  to  the  Church 
Catechism  one  duty  more,  —  to  the  duty  to  God  and 
duty  to  our  neighbor,  it  adds  duty  to  ourselves ;  and  this 
duty  is  one  which  no  one  is  slow  in  fulfilling.  Would 
that  the  other  parts  of  our  debt  were  as  truly  and 
faithfully  performed  as  this  one." 

"  I  looked  upon  the  wall  of  a  room  which  had  been 
newly  papered.  It  brought  to  my  mind  immediately  the 
soiled  and  torn  condition  of  the  old  paper  that  had  daily 
met  my  eyes,  until  I  had  ceased  to  notice  its  deformity. 

"  So  is  it  often  with  our  sight  of  our  own  faults.  They 
are  so  habitually  before  us,  they  fail  to  awaken  any 
perception  of  their  nature,  until  the  contrast  of  a  nature 
renewed  in  goodness  and  truth  reveals  the  real  ugliness 


336  RECORDS   OF  A   QUIET  LIFE. 

of  what  existed    before  without  our  being  conscious 
of  it." 

"  Eloquence  has  such  a  mighty  power  over  the  human 
mind  that  many  are  apt  to  forget  that  there  is  no  neces- 
sary connection  between  this  and  truth.  A  man  in  a 
passion,  or  a  madman,  will  often  pour  forth  a  torrent  of 
eloquence,  yet  all  his  premises  may  be  wrong  or  false. 
So  may  a  powerful  preacher,  or  an  ingenious  and  spir- 
ited advocate,  energetically  and  impressively  declare  his 
doctrines  or  his  cause,  and  yet  both  may  be  far  from 
soundness  or  justice.  We  must  not  allow  ourselves  to 
be  swayed  by  intellectual  subtleties,  or  wisdom  of  words 
and  thoughts,  any  more  than  by  passionate  feelings  and 
human  kindnesses,  in  our  estimate  of  truth.  Let  it  be 
tested  by  the  Word  of  God,  let  his  law  be  our  standard, 
his  apostles  our  authorities  ;  and  though  we  may  often 
have  to  give  up  the  human  idols  whom  we  admire  or 
love,  we  shall  be  preserved  from  much  error  and  soph- 
istry wherewith  the  devil  seeks  to  ensnare  us  under 
the  form  of  an  angel  of  light." 

"  The  different  modes  in  which  different  and  differing 
people  desire  to  do  God's  will  are  as  lines  converging  to 
a  common  centre.  When  the  true-hearted  meet  in  the 
centre,  in  the  real  knowledge  and  love  of  God,  the  dis- 
tance of  the  varied  lines  from  each  other  has  vanished 
away,  and  all  is  one." 

"Feb.  6,.  1853.  —  In  contemplating  a  person  we  love, 
in  speaking  to  such  a  one,  in  admiring  him,  what  is  it 
that  excites  our  love  and  praise  ?  Is  it  the  dress  he 
wears,  or  the  beauty  of  the  house  in  which  he  dwells  ? 


FAILING  HEALTH   AND   FOREIGN  TRAVEL.     337 

Or  is  it  the  goodness  and  love  that  dwells  in  himself  ? 
Surely  it  is  the  character  and  mind  of  our  beloved  one, 
it  is  that  mind  and  character  as  shown  forth  to  ourselves, 
that  especially  wins  our  affection. 

"  And  so  it  is  with  our  best  Beloved,  with  Jesus  our 
Lord.  We  cannot  love  or  know  Him  better  from  the 
beauty  of  his  temples,  the  splendor  of  his  services, 
the  attractions  to  our  senses  and  imagination  in  fine 
architecture,  in  beautiful  music,  in  grand  paintings. 
These  may  stir  our  feelings  for  the  brief  time  that  we 
are  present  with  them,  but  we  are  not  to  walk  by  feeling 
but  by  faith,  and  these  teach  us  nothing  of  Christ.  In 
the  written  Word  we  learn  to  know  his  love,  and  by 
his  Spirit  it  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts.  We  love  Him 
who  first  loved  us,  and  learn  what  it  is  to  worship  in 
spirit  and  in  truth.  While  therefore  we  delight  in  plea- 
sant sounds  and  beautiful  forms,  let  us  never  be  deluded 
into  the  belief  that  holiness  or  religion  can  be  promoted 
by  any  thing  short  of  Christ  Himself." 

"June  29,  1853.  —  Charity.  What  is  its  true  place  in 
the  scheme  of  our  salvation  ?  Maurice,  in  his  desire  to 
meet  Unitarians  in  their  assertion  of  its  necessity,  places 
it  in  the  foreground  of  Christian  truth.  But  is  not  this 
to  choose  for  ourselves,  instead  of  adopting  the  apos- 
tolic order  of  things  ?  St.  Paul  says,  indeed,  that  Charity 
is  greater  than  Faith,  because  more  enduring.  But  he 
lays  the  foundation  of  Faith  before  the  superstructure  of 
Charity  is  erected.  To  do  otherwise  is  very  much  the 
same  as  if  we  were  to  attempt  to  plant  a  tree  by  taking 
its  highest  branches,  with  all  their  beautiful  clothing  of 
leaves,  and  putting  them  in  the  ground,  instead  of  fixing 
IS  v 


338  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

the  root  or  sowing  the  seed  of  the  plant,  and  then  seeing 
it  spring  into  life  and  grow  up  into  a  tree. 

"  The  result  of  the  one  must  be  gradual  decay  and 
withering  away ;  that  of  the  other  will  be  increase  and 
growth  unto  the  perfect  tree,  —  bearing  fruit  in  due  sea- 
son, even  the  fruit  of  Charity." 

"  It  is  from  the  mouth  of  the  ignorant  that  we  hear 
the  words  '  I  know ; '  from  the  diligent  and  well-informed 
we  hear,  '  let  me  learn  ? ' " 

"  The  confusion  of  fancying  ourselves  or  others  insin- 
cere because  we  are  inconsistent  is  a  very  mischievous 
error,  leading  to  despondency  and  cowardice  in  our  own 
case,  and  to  harsh  and  unfair  judgments  of  others.  If 
we  were  to  call  it  weakness,  or  prejudice,  or  changeable- 
ness  of  feeling  or  opinion,  we  should  often  come  nearer 
the  truth.  How  wise,  how  good  should  we  be,  could  we 
see  our  own  follies,  prejudices,  and  weaknesses,  with  the 
same  clearness,  with  the  same  annoyance  that  we  do 
those  of  others.  But  then  they  would  cease  to  annoy 
us,  for  the  moment  of  sight  in  such  cases  would  be  the 
moment  of  dispersion.  All  would  vanish  at  the  magical 
touch  of  that  honest  truthfulness  which  could  discern 
them.  Folly  would  be  transformed  into  wisdom,  preju- 
dice into  candor,  and  weakness  would  rapidly  be  meta- 
morphosed into  strength." 

"  The  life  of  a  holy  Christian  should  be  one  perpetual 
Sacrament.  Every  moment  of  his  daily  life  may  unite 
him  by  faith  with  Christ,  so  that  his  clothing,  food,  home, 
friends,  work,  and  leisure  may  all  nourish  and  feed  the 


FAILING    HEALTH    AND    FOREIGN    TRAVEL.       339 

life  within,  and  bring  into  his  storehouse  things  new  and 
old  to  enrich  the  mind  of  the  spirit  from  without  By 
thus  receiving  Christ  in  his  providences  and  his  creation, 
by  his  outward  no  less  than  his  inward  teachings,  we 
shall  be  fashioned  after  his  likeness  and  grow  to  man- 
hood in  his  kingdom." 

"March  5,  1852. — The  great  secret  of  happiness  is 
to  throw  one's  self  into  the  circumstances  that  surround 
one,  and  learn  their  lesson,  and  not  desire  nor  look  for 
some  other.  So  also  in  persons,  if  we  could  value  and 
profit  by  what  they  have,  and  not  be  vainly  wishing  for 
qualities  .they  have  not,  we  should  benefit  by  them  far 
more,  and  be  spared  the  disappointment  and  mortifica- 
tion we  so  often  feel  in  finding  so  little  of  what  we 
desire  in  the  society  around  us.  It  must  be  a  barren 
land  that  produces  nothing  good.  But  it  is  not  always 
that  one  sees  it  on  the  surface.  We  must  dig  for  it,  and 
thus  discover  many  a  secret  treasure."  * 

Having  vainly  sought  health  at  Hastings  and 
Eastbourne,  my  mother  was  ordered  again  to  try 
the  effects  of  foreign  travel,  and  in  the  middle  of 
July  we  proceeded,  with  Miss  Leycester,  down  the 
Rhine  to  Heidelberg,  where  we  found  a  charming 
lodging,  with  a  lovely  oleander-fringed  garden,  over- 
hanging the  steep  side  of  the  hill  close  to  the 
castle.  The  month  passed  there  was  one  of  great 
enjoyment,  and  my  mother  gained  strength  daily  in 

*  Fragments  from  my  mother's  note-books  have  appeared  from 
time  to  time,  with  the  signature  a,  in  the  various  editions  of  the 
"Guesses  at  Truth." 


340  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

drives  upon  the  lovely  Berg  Strasse,  and  mornings 
spent  in  the  courts  and  gardens  of  the  castle,  which 
were  so  near  as  to  be  like  our  own  domain.  Dur- 
ing the  latter  part  of  our  stay  we  were  joined  by 
Mrs.  Stanley,  with  her  son  and  daughter,  and  her 
niece  Miss  Penrhyn,  on  their  way  to  Italy.  After 
they  left  us,  my  mother  had  regained  strength 
sufficiently  to  enjoy  a  short  tour  by  Baden,  Stras- 
burg,  and  Metz,  to  Treves  and  the  Moselle.  Hence 
I  returned  to  England,  and  she  went  to  Kreuznach, 
where  her  health  became  for  the  time  completely 
re-established. 

Catharine  Stanley  to  Maria  Hark 

" Rome,  Oct.  5,  1852.  —  When  we  entered  the  Cam- 
pagna,  I  wondered  how  a  place  covered  with  such 
luxuriance  of  vegetation  —  as  the  thickets  of  wild  vines 
and  wild  figs  throwing  themselves  about  everywhere  — 
could  be  unhealthy;  it  is  such  a  free,  open-breathing 
space.  .  .  .  When  we  reached  the  Flaminian  gate,  and 
saw  the  obelisk  and  the  three  diverging  streets,  it  was  so 
exactly  what  I  knew,  that  I  could  hardly  believe  I  had 
not  been  there  before,  all  was  so  familiar.  We  went 
that  very  afternoon  to  the  Capitol,  and  ascended  the 
tower ;  and  then  the  well-known  Forum,  and  arches, 
and  Coliseum,  and  St.  John  Lateran  appeared.  The 
prints  give  you  an  exact  representation,  except  perhaps 
that  you  do  not  take  in  the  large  proportion  of  dull  town 
that  there  is,  and  the  admixture  of  very  common  build- 
ings. Then  suddenly  came  a  gleam  of  light  for  a  few 
moments,  and  the  Campagna  was  lighted  up  with  a 
rainbow.  I  never  saw  any  thing  like  it;  of  that  no 
print  or  picture  can  give  you  the  idea. 


FAILING   HEALTH    AND    FOREIGN   TRAVEL.      34 1 

"Our  second  drive  was  to  St.  Peter's,  but  we  only 
took  a  general  glance.  I  was  anxious  to  get  to  my 
farthest  point  first,  —  the  Pyramid  of  Caius  Cestius.  It 
is  indeed  the  most  perfect  place  of  rest  one  can  imagine, 
and/or  him.  The  rose-hedge  was  in  full  flower,  cluster- 
ing thickly  all  round  the  grave  and  round  that  of 
Bunsen's  children,  and  there  were  two  aloes  at  the  foot, 
and  the  pine  and  cypresses." 

Maria  Hare  to  Augustus  J.  C.  Hare  (at  Oxford). 

"  March  12,  1854.  —  My  beloved  Augustus's  birthday 
is  at  hand,  and  to-morrow  he  will  complete  his  twentieth 
year.  I  can  scarcely  believe  you  are  so  old,  so  quickly 
have  the  years  passed  since  you  were  a  little  boy  running 
by  my  side.  May  God  bless  and  preserve  you  from  all 
evil  of  body  and  mind,  and  strengthen  you  to  serve 
Him.  I  thank  Him  for  having  given  you  to  my  care, 
and  for  having  put  into  your  heart  a  true  love  for  your 
adopting  mother.  You  are  able  now  to  repay  all  the 
anxieties  of  earlier  days,  and  hitherto  you  have  indeed 
done  so  by  your  tender  care  and  loving  attentions, 
especially  in  the  last  two  years,  when  my  infirmities  have 
so  much  increased.  I  hope,  my  own  Augustus,  that  this 
year  may  be  a  very  profitable  one  to  you,  and  that  the 
life  at  Oxford  may  prove  a  means  of  fitting  you  for  God's 
service ;  and  that  both  the  instruction  you  receive,  the 
knowledge  you  gain,  and  the  society  you  join  in,  may 
work  together  for  your  good,  and  may  stablish  your 
character  in  manly  principles,  in  expansion  of  mind,  and 
in  love  of  truth.  I  need  not  add  a  sermon  to  the  little 
book  I  send  ;  so  I  will  only  exhort  you,  while  you  desire 
to  be  useful  to  your  fellow-creatures,  not  to  forget  that 
you  yourself  must  first  draw  out  of  the  well-spring  of  the 


RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

Word  of  God,  which  is  ever  new.  Do  not  judge  of  what 
is  truth  by  the  inconsistent  and  imperfect  lives  of  even 
sincere  Christians,  but  by  going  to  Christ's  own  life  and 
words.  Beware  of  the  opposite  snares  of  superstitious 
credulity  and  overestimate  of  outward  and  visible  re- 
ligion, and  of  rationalistic  unbelief.  To  be  a  true 
Christian,  and  not  a  high  or  low  churchman,  must  be 
your  aim.  But,  above  all,  seek  to  be  'quickened  in 
spirit '  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  that  you  may  be  not  almost 
but  altogether  his  child,  and  a  faithful  soldier  of  Christ, 
able  to  conquer  your  besetting  sins  and  temptations  to 
selfishness,  of  whatever  kind  it  may  be,  and  to  forgetful- 
ness  of  Godfs  presence  and  love. 

"  This  is  a  most  lovely  day  ;  and  oh  !  how  I  enjoy  a 
country  Sunday!  all  the  crocuses  look  so  bright,  and 
there  is  such  a  profusion  of  violets." 

My  uncle,  Julius  Hare,  had  returned  home  to 
Hurstmonceaux  Rectory  very  ill  just  before  the 
Christmas  of  1854,  and  from  that  time  he  scarcely 
ever  left  his  room.  While  she  remained  at  home, 
my  mother  visited  him  every  afternoon,  and  even 
then  he  seemed  worse  than  he  had  ever  been 
before.  After  her  health  obliged  our  removal  to 
London,  his  illness  increased.  A  few  days  before 
his  death  there  was  a  gleam  of  hope,  but  on  the 
2 2d  of  January  pain  of  the  heart  set  in  and  this 
became  darkened. 

So  great  was  his  weakness  that  a  short  portion 
of  the  Scriptures,  or  a  Psalm,  was  all  that  he  could 
bear  ;  for  the  fever  and  the  dryness  of  the  throat  im- 
peded his  articulation,  and  made  conversation  dif- 


FAILING   HEALTH   AND   FOREIGN   TRAVEL.     343 

ficult.  In  this  way  the  17th,  the  23d,  and  the  71st 
Psalms  were  read  to  him,  and  portions  of  the 
earlier  chapters  of  St.  John.  When  the  17th  Psalm 
was  read  to  him,  he  said,  4  Thank  you  for  choosing 
that  dear  Psalm  ;  it  is  one  of  my  greatest  favor- 
ites.' Meanwhile  his  patience  and  his  thankfulness 
never  failed.  Two  days  before  his  death,  in  de- 
tached and  whispered  sentences,  and  for  the  last 
time,  he  offered  up  a  prayer  in  which  were  these 
petitions  :  '  We  thank  Thee  for  every  dispensation 
of  Thy  providence,  and  pray  that,  whether  painful 
for  the  moment  or  pleasant,  they  may  bring  us 
nearer  to  Thee  in  child-like  confidence  and  trust ; ' 
and  then,  in  a  true  pastoral  spirit,  he  expressed  his 
last  prayer  for  the  beloved  flock  of  his  parish  : 
'  that  God's  blessing  might  rest  on  them  and  their 
minister ;  that  they  might  all  be  taught  of  God  ; 
and  be  led  to  seek  more  and  more  earnestly  the 
way  of  eternal  life ; '  after  which  he  repeated  slowly 
the  Lord's  Prayer, — the  prayer  he  loved  so  well. 
On  Monday  evening,  the  day  before  he  died,  the 
beautiful  121st  Psalm  was  repeated  to  him,  verse 
by  verse,  — '  I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  to  the  hills, 
whence  cometh  my  help,'  —  with  pauses  between 
the  verses,  and  an  offer  to  cease  if  it  were  too 
much  for  him.  But  he  smiled  even  then,  and, 
though  unable  to  speak,  nodded  his  assent  and  his 
wish  that  the  Psalm  should  be  continued.  On  the 
same  night,  as  one  feature  of  his  religion  had  long 
been  a  delight  in  the  frequent  communion  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  it  was  suggested  that  his  curate 


344  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


should  administer  it  the  next  day,  if  he  would  wish 
it.  ' Very  much,'  he  whispered,  'if  I  am  able.  It 
would  be  a  great  comfort/  But  before  the  day 
dawned  he  no  more  needed  the  memorials  of  an 
absent  Saviour.  He  was  present  with  the  Lord. 
.  .  .  When  it  was  said  to  him  in  the  night  of  his 
passover  that  he  was  going  to  his  heavenly  Father's 
home,  he  faintly  answered,  '  I  think  I  may  be  ; '  and 
after  a  short  pause  added,  '  Bless  the  Lord  for  all 
his  mercies  to  me.'  But  his  last  clear  words  were 
remarkable ;  for  they  were  in  a  voice  more  distinct 
and  strong  than  he  had  reached  for  several  days 
past,  and,  in  answer  to  the  question  how  he  would 
be  moved,  with  his  eyes  raised  towards  heaven, 
and  a  look  of  indescribable  brightness,  he  said, 
1  Upwards,  upwards.'  Soon  after  that  he  passed 
from  earth  to  heaven."  * 

My  mother  received  the  news  of  her  brother's 
death  with  tearful  calmness,  and  nothing  would 
induce  her  to  waver  from  her  determination  to 
return  to  Hurstmonceaux  before  the  day  of  the 
funeral. 

It  was  on  the  30th  of  January,  a  cold  and  pierc- 
ing day,  that  the  last  Hare  of  Hurstmonceaux  was 
buried.  The  coffin  was  carried  from  the  rectory 
to  the  church  by  eighteen  bearers  in  white  Sus- 
sex smock-frocks,  followed  by  a  number  of  his 
friends,  his  servants,  about  fifty  of  the  clergy,  and 
a  long  train  of  his  poorer  parishioners,  who  fell 

*  From  the  funeral  sermon  preached  at  Hurstmonceaux  by 
the  Rev.  H.  V.  Elliot. 


FAILING   HEALTH    AND    FOREIGN    TRAVEL.      345 

into  the  procession  as  it  passed  through  the  differ- 
ent villages.  The  widow  joined  the  other  mourn- 
ers at  the  foot  of  the  hill  leading  to  the  church. 
As  we  passed  into  the  churchyard,  it  was  covered 
thickly  with  snow,  but  the  church  was  lit  up  with 
the  full  sunshine,  and  the  effect  was  beautiful,  on 
looking  back  upon  the  winding  road  filled  with  a 
throng  of  people  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 
The  grave  was  by  that  of  his  brother  Marcus,  a 
little  in  front  of  the  great  yew-tree,  round  the 
trunk  of  which  was  ranged  a  group  of  some  of  the 
oldest  parishioners,  one  old  man  especially  who 
had  lived  in  the  castle  in  the  time  of  his  rector's 
great-grandfather,  and  who  had  insisted  on  being 
brought  to  the  church  to  see  the  last  of  the  family 
with  whom  he  had  been  so  long  connected.  All 
the  concourse  of  clergy  standing  around  in  the 
open  air  repeated  the  responses,  and  all  the  clergy 
and  all  the  people,  as  with  one  voice,  said  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  when,  broken  by  sobs,  it  was  es- 
pecially solemn  and  thrilling,  and  the  words  "  Thy 
will  be  done  "  came  home  to  every  heart. 

The  weeks  which  followed  the  funeral  were  oc- 
cupied in  dismantling  the  rectory.  All  its  treasures 
were  dispersed,  the  bulk  of  the  fine  library  being 
presented  by  Julius  Hare's  widow  to  the  library  of 
Trinity  College,  at  Cambridge,  and  the  collection 
of  pictures  to  the  .  Fitz- William  Museum.  My 
mother's  intense  desire  to  be  of  comfort  and  use 
to  others  gave  her  an  amount  of  strength  at  this 
time  which  was  astonishing  to  those  who  had 
15* 


346  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

looked  forward  with  the  utmost  dread  to  the  ef- 
fect this  long-expected  grief  would  have  upon  her ; 
but  her  effort  at  self-command  proved  too  great  for 
her  physical  powers,  and  after  Mrs.  Julius  Hare 
had  moved  to  Lime,  and  the  last  link  with  the  rec- 
tory life  was  thus  broken,*  she  fell  into  a  state  of 
unconsciousness  which  lasted  for  sixty  hours  with 
scarcely  the  faintest  hope  of  recovery.  Yet  after 
that  time  she  was  again  given  back  to  us. 

In  March,  i860,  we  first  knew  that  we  should  be 
obliged  to  leave  Hurstmonceaux,  and  the  summer 
was  sadly  passed  in  preparations,  in  leave-takings, 
and  in  looking  for  a  new  home,  which  was  very 
difficult  to  find.  Many  places  in  all  the  southern 
counties  of  England  were  examined  in  vain  ;  and 
my  mother  was  on  the  point  of  giving  up  the  search 
as  hopeless,  and  going  abroad  for  several  years, 
when  a  little  property  near  Hastings  was  sug- 
gested to  her,  which  met  all  her  needs,  and  which, 
under  the  name  of  Holmhurst,  became  the  happy 
home  of  the  later  years  of  her  life. 

*  The  living  of  Hurstmonceaux,  which  had  been  long  in  the 
family,  had  been  sold  by  Francis  George  Hare  in  1854. 


XVII. 

HOLMHURST. 

"Remember  that  some  of  the  brightest  drops  in  the 
chalice  of  life  may  still  remain  for  us  in  old  age.  The  last 
draught  which  a  kind  Providence  gives  us  to  drink,  though 
near  the  bottom  of  the  cup,  may,  as  is  said  of  the  draught 
of  the  Roman  of  old,  have  at  that  very  bottom,  instead  of 
dregs,  most  costly  pearls."  —  W.  A.  Newman. 

/^VUR  new  home,  only  fourteen  miles  from  Hurst- 
^^  monceaux,  was  situated  on  the  high  narrow 
ridge  of  hill  which  divides  the  seaboard  near  Hast- 
ings from  the  richly  wooded  undulations  of  the 
Weald  of  Sussex.  The  house  was  little  more  than 
a  cottage  with  a  few  better  rooms  added  to  it,  but 
its  winding  passages  and  low  rooms  were  well 
suited  to  our  old  pictures  and  carved  furniture, 
relics  for  the  most  part  of  Hurstmonceaux  Castle. 
The  principal  rooms  opened  upon  a  little  terrace 
with  vases,  whence  one  looked  down  through  up- 
land oak-studded  meadows  to  Hastings  Castle  and 
the  sea  ;  and  a  narrow  garden,  filled  with  variety  of 
wood,  rock,  and  water,  all  alike  in  miniature,  rambled 
on  either  side  along  the  edge  of  the  hill. 

To  break  the  change  in  our  lives,  and  for  the 
benefit  to  my  mother's  health,  it  had  long  been 
settled  that  we  should  pass  the  winter   at   Men- 


1 


34$  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

tone ;  and  as  soon  as  we  had  taken  possession  of 
Holmhurst,  we  proceeded  thither,  visiting  Orleans, 
Bourges,  Avignon,  Nismes,  and  Aries  upon  the 
way. 

Our  winter  at  Mentone  was  by  far  the  most 
delightful  of  the  many  we  have  spent  abroad.  My 
mother  entirely  enjoyed  it.  The  walks  and  donkey- 
rides  were  inexhaustible,  the  scenery  surpassingly 
lovely,  the  climate  delicious,  and  a  pleasant  circle 
of  friends  occupied  the  villas,  which,  thinly  scat- 
tered over  the  orange-gardens  and  olive-groves, 
then  formed  the  whole  colony. 

The  only  shadow  over  my  mother's  happy  winter 
at  Mentone  came  in  the  news  of  the  death  of  her 
only  brother,  Mr.  Penrhyn,  and  the  impossibility  of 
being  with  him  in  his  last  illness.  The  loss  of  his 
warm  welcome  and  unfailing  sympathy  made  a 
great  blank  in  her  return  to  England,  though  she 
was  much  comforted  by  the  loving  attentions  which 
she  always  received  from  his  four  children,  and 
which  she  warmly  and  tenderly  appreciated.  In 
the  following  spring  (of  1862),  on  March  5,  the 
day  preceding  the  first  anniversary  of  her  brother's 
death,  came  greater  grief  in  the  parting  with  her 
beloved  sister,  Mrs.  Stanley,  endeared  to  her  in  a 
whole  lifetime  of  unbroken  confidence  and  revering 
love.  It  gave  an  additional  interest  to  her  little 
Holmhurst  that  this  dear  sister  had  seen  and  en- 
joyed it,  and  that  their  last  intimate  companionship 
was  associated  with  the  new  home.  Here  my 
mother  remained  quietly  for  nearly  two  years. 


HOLMHURST.  349 

My  mother  especially  delighted  in  her  Sundays. 
They  were  not  only  days  of  rest,  but  of  real  enjoy- 
ment to  her.  Before  going  to  church  she  always 
devoted  herself  entirely  to  thinking  of  and  reading 
about  the  lessons  appointed  for  the  day,  and  refer- 
ring to  Jeremy  Taylor,  Leighton,  Tauler,  Olshausen, 
Calvin,  Luther,  Alford,  Barnes,  and  other  commen- 
tators, for  their  views  on  the  subjects  contained  in 
them.  She  also  every  Sunday  read  and  thought 
upon  the  Resurrection.  In  the  afternoons  she 
visited  her  garden,  and  sate  out  in  the  fields  over- 
looking the  sea,  whenever  the  weather  allowed.  In 
the  evening  she  played  and  sang  hymns.  With 
Henry  Vaughan,  she  regarded  her  Sundays  as  — 

"  Bright  shadows  of  true  rest !  some  shoots  of  bliss ; 

Heaven  once  a  week ; 
The  next  world's  gladness  pre-possessed  in  this ; 

A  day  to  see 
Eternity  in  Time." 

It  had  been  a  distress  to  her  on  our  first  settling 
at  Holmhurst  that  the  church  was  at  so  great  a 
distance.  In  the  autumn  of  1862,  chiefly  through 
the  kindness  of  a  neighbor,  a  little  iron  church 
was  raised  close  to  our  gates. 

In  the  autumn  of  1862,  my  mother's  health  again 
began  to  fail,  and  the  winter  was  passed  in  great 
suffering  and  anxiety.  In  the  spring  we  again  re- 
sorted to  the  unfailing  remedy  of  foreign  air,  and, 
in  spite  of  her  great  weakness,  reached  Hyeres  in 
safety,  where  she  at  once  began  to  revive,  and  pro- 


350  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

ceeded  to  Nice,  where  we  passed  several  months  in 
a  small  apartment  which  had  a  beautiful  view  of  the 
sea  on  one  side,  and  of  the  snow  mountains  across 
orange  and  carouba  groves  on  the  other.  In  the 
late  spring  we  went  for  a  short  time  to  revisit 
Mentone,  and  then  to  Geneva  and  Thun,  where  we 
passed  some  time  in  great  enjoyment  at  the  Pen- 
sion Baumgarten,  before  returning  to  Holmhurst. 
In  these  tours  the  faithful  Mary  Gidman  was  our 
constant  companion,  and  if  I  went  away  for  longer 
excursions,  she  always  accompanied  my  mother  in 
her  rambles  through  the  mountain  pastures  she  so 
intensely  delighted  in.  The  extreme  pleasure  my 
mother  felt  in  mountain  scenery  was  fully  shared 
by  her  sister  Lucy,  who  spent  this  summer  in 
Switzerland. 

My  mother's  meeting  with  her  sister  Esther,  in 
the  autumn  of  1863,  was  indeed  the  last, —  Mrs 
Julius  Hare  passed  away  early  in  the  following 
February,  while  we  were  at  Rome. 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

"Bologna,  Nov.  6,  1863.  —  Can  it  be  twenty-nine 
years,  my  Luce,  since  we  were  here  together  ?  So  it  is, 
and  as  surely  as  our  Lord  Jesus  was  with  us  both,  in 
those  days  of  mingled  joy  and  sorrow,  so  surely  is  He 
with  us  now :  you  in  your  watching  by  a  sick-bed,  me 
in  my  wanderings  far  away.  I  wonder  whether  you 
recollect  this  picturesque  old  town  and  its  beautiful 
pictures  ? " 

"  Rome,  Dec.  4.  —  Nothing  can  live  more  quietly  than 
we  do  here,  —  quite  as  much  as  at  home.     In  the  even- 


HOLMHURST.  35 1 

ings  Augustus  reads  to  me  something  connected  with 
the  history  of  the  day.  There  are  endless  interests, 
but  as  long  as  the  weather  keeps  fine,  we  keep  to  the 
country  and  the  views  for  drawing.  ...  As  I  walk  over 
the  Pincio  on  Sunday  mornings,  do  I  not  think  of  those 
Sunday  walks  in  1834,  when  first  the  inward  flood  of 
sunshine  illuminated  the  outward  darkness  of  my  life, 
and  revealed  the  beauties  of  the  unseen  world  whither 
my  Augustus  had  entered,  —  and  can  it  be  thirty  years 
since  then  ?  I  ask  myself.  Why  should  one  ever  doubt 
or  fear,  when  the  past  testifies  so  truly  that  '  goodness 
and  mercy  have  followed '  one  through  all  of  sorrow  and 
joy?" 

"  yan.  28.  —  The  continued  anxiety  about  dear  Esther 
so  presses  upon  me  that  I  can  think  of  little  else.  .  .  . 
There  is  no  place  like  Rome  for  times  of  sorrow,  and 
where  in  the  midst  of  the  world,  and  a  gay  one  too,  one 
can  be  so  retired  and  solitary.  And  there  is  something 
in  the  relics  of  past  ages  and  all  the  old  ruins  so  mourn- 
ful, and  yet,  in  the  crumbling  away  of  earthly  grandeur, 
so  speaking  of  the  true  '  Eternal  Gity,'  that  one's  mind 
is  continually  filled  with  thoughts  of  a  future  that  cannot 
pass  away.  Then  the  Campagna,  with  its  wild  solitary 
aspect  and  lovely  views,  is  so  unlike  any  thing  else." 

"  Rome,  Feb.  18,  1864.  —  On  this  day  thirty  years  ago, 
you  and  I,  dearest  Luce,  stood  by  the  bedside  and 
received  the  last  breath  of  that  beloved  one  who  was 
then  delivered  from  the  burden  of  the  flesh,  and  entered 
the  rest  prepared  for  those  who  love  their  Lord.  And  I 
can  find  nothing  so  congenial  as  to  talk  to  you,  my 
beloved  sister-friend,  on  this  day  when  you  will  surely 
be  reading  the  same  Psalm  xc,  and  recalling  the  same 
scene  in  that  room  so  near  me  now.     From  the  Trinity 


352  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET   LIFE. 

de'  Monti  I  look  down  daily  on  its  windows,  and  can 
give  thanks  for  the  flood  of  light  poured  in  upon  me 
there,  and  '  take  courage.'  Thirty  years  !  How  is  it  all 
but  as  a  day,  —  a  short  day  in  God's  sight,  yet  how  long 
a  one  in  all  that  has  been  crowded  into  it.  How  many 
dear  ones  have  been  taken  away  in  this  space  of  time 
from  our  sight,  how  many  been  given  to  fill  up  in  some 
measure  the  blank.  And  she,  our  Esther,  who  is  now 
hovering  on  the  border-land,  was  a  blessing  given,  now 
about  to  be  taken  from  us.  Can  we  not  trust  the  Lord 
in  our  sorrow,  while  we  praise  Him  for  his  goodness  ? 
I  am  so  glad  to  be  here  on  this  anniversary,  so  solemn 
and  so  blessed,  and  to  be  able  to  spend  it  in  a  visit  to 
the  cemetery  so  sacred  to  me.  There  the  growth  of  the 
aloes  is  a  token  of  the  years  that  have  passed  since  they 
were  planted  ;  .  .  .  and  you  and  I  are  nearing  the 
haven  of  rest  where  it  will  little  matter  whether  joy  or 
sorrow  has  been  our  portion,  if  only  we  are  wholly  the 
Lord's,  * strengthened,  stablished,  and  settled'  in  his 
faith  and  love. 

"  In  this  place  one  needs  no  outward  spiritual  com- 
munion. It  is  enough  when  alone  to  commune  with 
Him  who  is  the  same  that  was  yesterday  when  Rome 
was  in  its  glory,  and  is  to-day  in  its  degradation,  and 
will  be  in  the  future  whatever  be  its  course,  —  and  who 
has  fashioned  the  beauties  which  still  gird  it  round,  and 
which  can  be  equally  enjoyed  in  all  ages." 

Lucy  Anne  Hare  to  Maria  Hare. 

"  London,  Jan.  30,  1864.  —  Our  almost  sainted  sister 
lies  close  to  me.  Her  gentle  voice  can  now  scarcely  be 
heard,  still  the  love  at  her  heart's  door  is  as  warm  as 
ever.     She  can  still  read  a  little  in  her  Psalm  book,  but 


HOLMHURST.  353 

the  seeing  any  one  causes  such  terrible  suffering,  she 
does  not  attempt  it.  It  cannot  last  much  longer,  and 
then,  —  the  meeting,  not  the  parting !  " 

"Feb.  29. —  Our  beloved  Esther  is  now  rejoicing  in 
the  better  world.  .  .  .  Just  after  midnight  on  the  19th 
her  bell  rang,  and  when  the  maid  came  in,  quite  in  a 
clear  voice  she  told  her  to  call  her  sister.  As  soon  as 
she  went  in,  she  saw  that  the  end  was  come.  Esther 
pressed  her  hand  strongly,  stroked  it  tenderly,  but  could 
not  speak.  Only,  in  answer  to  L.'s  inquiry,  she  said, 
'  All  peace  and  mercy,'  or  some  such  words ;  and  when 
L.  said,  '  Is  Christ  with  you  ? '  she  said,  *  Yes,'  — 
closed  her  eyes,  and,  like  a  wearied  child,  laid  her  head 
on  the  pillow,  and  without  one  struggle,  or  even  passing 
cloud  over  the  mind,  she  was  asleep." 

Maria  Hare's  Journal. 

"March  4,  1864.  —  I  have  heard  from  Arthur  Stanley 
of  our  dear  Esther's  funeral.  .  .  . 

"  It  was  at  Highgate.  She  had  expressed  in  her  will, 
and  also  on  a  separate  memorandum,  a  strong  desire  to 
be  buried  at  Hurstmonceaux,  but  a  short  time  before 
her  death  she  called  for  her  sister,  and  asked  her  how 
long  she  was  likely  to  live,  —  *  For  if  I  last  till  the 
spring,  I  should  still  wish  to  be  laid  by  Julius  at  Hurst- 
monceaux, but  if  not,  —  if  the  funeral  is  to  be  in  this  cold 
weather,  —  the  living  must  not  be  sacrificed  to  the  dead, 
and  I  must  be  buried  at  Highgate.'  So  it  was.  Arthur 
says  it  was  a  raw,  gusty,  sleeting  day.  He  read  the 
opening  part  of  the  service  in  the  chapel,  and  then  they 
went  in  carriages  up  the  hill,  for  the  grave  is  nearly  at 
the  top  of  the  cemetery,  in  the  vault  where  her  father 
and  mother  and  Priscilla  are  buried,  and  where  Julius 


354  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

had  buried  her  mother  and  Priscilla  together,  and  been 
so  deeply  affected,  and  had  knelt  by  the  open  grave. 
The  mourners  stood,  partly  sheltered  by  a  small  shed, 
Arthur  on  a  gravestone  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the 
grave,  against  a  large  cross,  without  a  name,  —  which 
seemed  to  him  well  to  suit  the  thought  of  her  who  was 
gone.  There  lay  the  three  coffins  below,  and  upon  them 
her  coffin  descended,  with  a  white  flower  or  two  thrown 
upon  it,  —  and  so  that  sacred  lamp  went  out,  —  went 
out  to  our  mortal  sight,  but  to  be  rekindled,  we  may 
believe,  with  a  better  and  brighter,  but  still  the  same 
celestial  flame,  where  no  cruel  wind  or  sleet  or  storm 
shall  agitate  its  keen  pure  light  for  ever." 

The  winter  of  1863-64  we  again  passed  at  Rome, 
reaching  it,  by  a  terrible  and  trying  journey,  through 
the  flooded  country  around  Ficulle  and  Orvieto, 
where  the  unfinished  railway,  and  the  difficulty  of 
obtaining  post-horses,  made  travelling  most  diffi- 
cult for  an  invalid.  Once  established  in  the  Piazza 
di  Spagna,  however,  my  mother  began  to  revive, 
and  her  comparative  health  enabled  her  to  enjoy 
this  Roman  winter  more  than  any  other.  It  was 
especially  rich  in  the  society  of  friends,  especially 
that  of  the  venerable  Caroline,  Lady  Wenlock,  who 
was  living  close  by,  and  who  in  her  great  age  pre- 
served evergreen  her  wonderful  gifts  of  wit  and 
anecdote,  mingled  with  a  most  winning  courtesy 
and  careful  thoughtfulness  for  all  around  her,  —  of 
two  of  the  daughters  of  our  cousin,  Sir  J.  Shaw 
Lefevre,  who  were  passing  the  winter  at  Rome 
with  their  aunt,  Miss  Wright,  afterwards  my  moth- 


HOLMHURST.  355 

er's  kind  companion  and  comforter  in  many  days 
of  failing  health  and  strength,  —  and  of  Dean 
Alford  and  his  family,  whose  well-informed  interest 
in  all  that  Rome  could  offer  added  a  fresh  charm 
to  all  we  saw  there,  as  it  has  often  done  elsewhere. 
The  first  few  weeks  of  this  winter  were  perfect 
Elysium,  —  the  sketching  for  hours  in  the  depths 
of  the  Forum,  watching  the  sunlight  first  kiss  the 
edge  of  the  columns,  and  then  bathe  them  with 
gold  ;  the  wandering  with  different  friends  over 
the  old  mysterious  churches  on  the  Aventine  and 
Ccelian,  and  the  finding  out  and  analyzing  all  their 
histories  from  various  books  at  home  afterwards ; 
even  the  drives  between  the  high  walls,  seeing  the 
changing  effects  of  sunlight  on  the  broken  tufa 
stones  and  the  pellitory  and  maidenhair  grow- 
ing between  them ;  the  Sunday  afternoons,  almost 
invariably  passed  with  my  mother  in  the  Medici 
Gardens,  walking  under  the  pine-trees  in  the  sun, 
and  looking  upon  the  distant  Sabine  mountains,  in 
their  chill,  snow  garb ;  the  delicious  excursions 
with  the  Alfords  into  the  distant  parts  of  the  Cam- 
pagna,  —  to  Ostia,  with  its  gorgeous  marbles  and 
melancholy  tower  and  pine,  —  to  Castel  Fusano, 
with  its  palace,  like  that  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty, 
rising  lonely  from  its  green  lawns,  with  its  grand 
forest  full  of  gigantic  pines  and  bays  and  ilexes 
and  deep,  still  pools  in  the  abysses  of  the  wood, 
bounded  on  one  side  by  the  pathless  Campagna, 
and  on  the  other  by  the  sea,  —  to  Collatia,  with  its 
copses  filled  with  violets  and  anemones,  and  its 


356  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

purling  brook  and  broken  tower,  —  to  Cerbara,  full 
of  colossal  caves  with  laurestinus  waving  through 
their  rifts,  —  to  Veii,  with  its  long  circuit  of  ruins, 
its  tunnelled  Ponte  Sodo,  and  its  columbaria  and 
tombs.  These  are  our  winter  memories,  these  and 
many  quiet  days  spent  alone  with  my  mother  amid 
Roman  ruins  and  gardens,  when  her  gentle  pres- 
ence, when  the  very  thought  of  her  loved  existence, 
made  all  things  beautiful  and  lovely  to  the  com- 
panion of  her  life. 

In  the  spring  we  revisited  Sorrento  and  Amain, 
and  then  went  to  Courmayeur,  at  the  foot  of  Mont 
Blanc,  on  its  magnificent  Italian  side.  As  we  passed 
through  Florence  we  paid  a  last  visit  to  Landor, 
then  in  extreme  old  age,  looking  most  patriarchal 
in  his  white  hair  and  beard.  His  mind  was  cloud- 
ing, and  he  scarcely  recollected  us  at  first,  but  he 
remembered  the  family,  and  repeated  over  and  over 
again  the  familiar  names,  "  Francis,  Julius,  Augus- 
tus, I  miei  tre  Imperatori !  I  have  never  known  any 
family  I  loved  so  much  as  yours.  I  loved  Francis 
most,  then  Julius,  then  Augustus,  —  but  I  loved 
them  all.  Francis  was  the  dearest  friend  I  ever 
had."  A  few  weeks  after,  his  great  spirit  passed 
away.  Towards  the  end  of  June  we  returned  to 
Holmhurst,  where  my  mother  spent  the  whole  of 
the  summer. 

Maria  Hare's  Journal  ("The  Green  Book"). 

" Holmhurst,  Nov.  22,  1864. — Sixty-six!  Yes,  so 
many  have  been  the  years  of  my  pilgrimage,  and  surely 


HOLMHURST.  357 

they  are  drawing  near  to  their  close.  What  a  solemn 
thought,  yet  how  difficult  to  realize  it !  The  last  year 
has  added  another  to  the  blanks  made  in  my  heart's 
treasures  ;  in  losing  my  loved  Esther  from  this  world  I 
have  lost  one  who,  for  twenty-seven  years,  has  been  a 
most  loving  friend,  and  for  seventeen  years  a  dear  sister. 
Her  calm  wisdom  and  loving  sympathy  has  made  her 
ever  the  most  precious  of  my  friends,  and  I  have  been 
so  closely  bound  up  with  her  in  her  Hurstmonceaux  life 
that  I  feel  no  one  can  share  in  the  recollections  of  the 
past  as  she  did.     She  is  — 

1  Gone,  gone,  but  gone  before, 

Silent  the  name 
Upon  the  lips  where  once 
The  music  came.' 

Like  a  gentle  river  she  has  passed  away  and  been  trans- 
lated whither  so  many  of  her  beloved  ones  had  gone 
before,  and  now  they  are  all  members  of  the  heavenly 
host  awaiting  the  fuller  and  more  perfect  bliss  of  the 
glorified  saints. 

"  May  I,  in  my  few  remaining  years,  be  fitted  to  join 
them,  being  clothed  upon  with  the  wedding  garment  of 
Christ's  Righteousness.  There  is  no  other  that  can 
cover  one's  emptiness.  Oh,  in  spite  of  all  the  discipline 
of  this  life,  how  poor  and  wretched  are  my  attainments 
in  the  heavenly  life  !  how  slothful  and  dead  to  spiritual 
interests  !  May  the  Lord  himself  quicken  me  to  greater 
earnestness  in  running  the  race  set  before  me,  to  more 
faithfulness  in  the  duties  of  my  life,  and  more  submission 
in  the  trials  of  this  troublesome  world,  its  anxieties,  and 
its  contrarieties.  O  Lord  my  Saviour,  do  Thou  come 
and  fill  my  heart,  and  enable  me,  forgetting  what  is 


358  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

oehind,  to  press  forward  to  the  prize  of  my  high  calling 
in  Thee.  Then  shall  I  awake  and  be  satisfied  in  Thy 
likeness,  and  be  united  with  the  loved  and  lost  ones, 
and  with  them  join  in  praises  to  the  Lamb  that  was 
slain,  who  is  alone  worthy  to  receive  honor  and  blessing 
for  ever  and  ever." 

The  winter  of  1864-65  was  a  terribly  anxious  one. 
My  mother's  powers  failed  with  the  approach  of 
winter,  and  she  became  daily  more  and  more  ill. 
Gradually  the  consciousness  came  that  there  was 
no  chance  of  her  recovery  but  through  going 
abroad,  and  then  came  the  difficulty  of  how  to  go, 
and  where.  We  turned  towards  Pau  or  Biarritz 
because  easier  of  access  than  Cannes,  and  because 
the  journeys  were  shorter  ;  and  then  there  was  the 
constant  driving  down  to  look  at  the  sea,  and  the 
discovery  that  when  it  was  calm  enough  my  mother 
was  too  ill  to  be  moved,  and  when  she  was  better 
the  sea  was  too  rough. 

In  November,  1865,  we  went  out  again  to  Rome 
by  Genoa  and  the  Riviera  road,  and  then  by  the  Ma- 
remma  railway  to  Nunziatella,  whence  we  had  to  pro- 
ceed through  the  night  in  diligences,  accompanied 
by  mounted  patrols  as  a  defence  against  the  brig- 
ands. The  winter  was  passed  in  the  upper  floor  of 
the  beautiful  Tempietto  ("  Claude's  House  "),  look- 
ing down  over  the  whole  expanse  of  the  city  with  its 
domes  and  towers.  On  leaving  Rome  we  passed 
some  days  very  pleasantly  at  Narni  and  Perugia,  and 
then  proceeded  to  Bellaggio,  and  crossed  the  Splu- 
gen  in  sledges,  to  visit  the  Bunsens  at  Carlsruhe. 


HOLMHURST.  359 

The  only  variety  to  my  mother's  peaceful  sum- 
mer (1866)  was  a  visit  to  Shropshire,  and  to  Alton, 
where  her  poor  friends  welcomed  her  with  a  wealth 
of  evergreen  love,  and  where  she  gave  a  supper  to 
forty  of  the  older  people  in  a  barn,  where  the  owls 
hissed  overhead  in  the  oak  rafters.  After  the  feast 
was  over,  she  made  the  people  a  sweet  little  speech, 
praying  that  all  present  there  might  meet  her  at  the 
Supper  of  the  Lamb.  It  was  her  last  sight  of  these 
old  friends.* 

Maria  Hare  to  Lucy  Anne  Hare. 

"  Alton-Barnes,  August  14,  1866.  —  You  can  see  me 
in  this  dear  old  home,  for  even  now,  though  it  is  thirty- 
two  years  since  I  left  it,  there  is  little  change  beyond 
one  or  two  new  cottages.  There  are  the  downs,  the 
White  Horse,  the  primitive  people,  the  tiny  church,  and 
the  rectory,  still  the  same.  You  perhaps  would  think 
there  were  few  now  left  who  remembered  those  old  days, 
but  though  on  each  visit  I  find  some  gaps  made,  we 
gathered  forty  old  friends  to  supper  last  night  in  the 
barn.  On  Saturday  the  school  children,  seventy  in 
number,  had  their  treat. 

"  How  surely  does  time  heal  all  anguish  !  The  sight 
of  this  place  now  causes  no  pain.  It  seems  to  bring 
back  a  dream  of  a  former  life,  —  a  paradisiacal  life,  when 
an  Adam  and  his  Eve  were  walking  together  in  that  gar- 
den, and  for  a  very  few  brief  years  were  permitted  to 
tread  the  path  of  life  side  by  side.  And  as  I  cross  the 
fields,  go  down  the  lane,  and  see  John  Brown  still  in  his 
cottage,  with  head  bent  over  his  Bible,  I  could  live  over 
again  those  past  days.     Then  there  is  still  the  now  ven- 


36o 


RECORDS    OF   A    Q\ 


erable  white  head  of  that  grand  old  man  William  Pontin, 
who  has  so  much  to  tell  of  God's  goodness  that  he 
*  cannot  satisfy  himself  with  thanksgiving.'  The  golden 
sheaves  cover  the  vast  plains  and  sides  of  the  downs, 
and  the  peaceful  hamlets  are,  as  ever,  lying  in  the 
valley." 


XVIII. 

THE   SUNSET   BEFORE   THE   DAWN. 

"No  smile  is  like  the  smile  of  death, 
When  all  good  musings  past 
Rise  wafted  with  the  parting  breath, 
The  sweetest  thought  the  last." 

Christian  Year. 

"XT  7"E  left  England  for  Italy  for  the  last  time  on 
*  *  the  2 1  st  of  October,  1869,  after  a  pleasant 
little  visit  to  Archdeacon  Harrison  at  Canterbury. 
In  order  to  evade  the  early  snows  on  Mont  Cenis, 
we  took  the  longer  route  through  Germany,  and 
spent  several  days  at  Carlsruhe  with  our  old  and 
kind  friend  Madame  de  Bunsen.  At  Verona  my 
mother  was  well  enough  to  walk  in  the  beautiful 
Giusti  Gardens,  which  we  had  so  often  enjoyed 
together,  and  at  Vicenza  she  found  almost  equal 
enjoyment  in  the  gardens  of  the  Marchese  Salvi,  to 
which  we  had  admittance,  and  which  were  close  to 
our  hotel.  We  spent  a  week  at  Vicenza,  finding 
in  its  lovely  neighborhood  quite  the  ideal  Italy, 
—  rich  foregrounds  of  vines  trailed  from  tree  to 
tree,  and  terraces  of  roses,  with  the  background  of 
the  peaked  and  snow-tipped  Alps.  My  mother  was 
so  unequal  to  long  journeys,  and  so  much  enjoyed 
the  few  sights  she  was  still  able  to  see,  that  the 
16 


362         m  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 


end  of  November  only  found  us  arrived  at  Pisa. 
Though  already  much  affected  by  the  cold,  she  was 
still  so  far  well  that  I  was  able,  to  be  absent  from 
her  for  two  days  at  Siena  and  S.  Gemignano.  It 
was  during  this  time  that  I  received  her  last 
precious  little  letter. 

Maria  Hare  to  Augustus  J.  C.  Hare. 

"  Nov.  30,  half-past  eight  a.  m.  —  The  sparrow  in  its 
nest  with  blinking  eyes  tells  its  young  one  that  she  has 
had  a  better  night,  only  a  few  croaks  and  much  sleep. 
The  parent  bird  hopes  the  dark  sky  will  like  yesterday 
change  to  a  bright  one,  and  that  the  absent  bird  will 
fly  about  to  its  heart's  content  and  then  return  to  the 
shadow  of  her  wings." 

Soon  after  I  had  rejoined  her  at  Pisa,  and  when 
she  was  increasingly  ill  and  suffering,  a  catastrophe 
occurred  which  forcibly  detained  us  for  many  weeks 
afterwards. 

We  found  a  delightful  apartment  at  Rome  in  No. 
33,  Via  Gregoriana,  but  only  two  days  after  our 
arrival  my  mother  had  a  terrible  fall,  which  stunned 
her  at  the  time,  and  from  which  she  never  entirely 
recovered.  On  the  7th  of  February  she  had  a 
slight  paralytic  seizure,  and  a  more  severe  one  on 
the  13th  of  March,  after  which  she  was  in  the 
greatest  danger  for  some  time,  and  she  was  never 
able  to  walk  or  to  use  her  left  side  or  arm  again. 

Augustus  J.  C.  Hare  to  Miss  Leycester. 

"  Feb.  19.  — The  mother  has  rallied  again  to  a  certain 
degree  of  power,  but  is  able  to  do  very,  very  little,  —  a 


THE  SUNSET  BEFORE  THE  DAWN.      363 

very  few  verses  in  the  Bible  is  the  most  she  can  read. 
Our  lovely  view  is  a  perpetual  enjoyment  to  her,  the 
town  beneath  us  so  picturesque  in  the  blue  indistinct- 
ness of  the  morning,  and  St.  Peter's  so  grand  against 
the  golden  sunsets." 

Maria  Hare  to  Miss  Leycester. 

"  March  7.  —  After  going  down  to  the  bottom  I  am 
slowly  creeping  up  again,  but  it  seems  as  if  I  should 
never  end  this  long  winter's  illness,  and  my  weakness 
gets  more  and  more.  Mrs  Woodward  is,  as  ever,  most 
kind  to  me." 

Augustus  J.  C.  Hare  to  Miss  Leycester. 

"March  26.  —  My  darling  mother  is  now  in  a  very 
peaceful,  happy  state,  —  no  longer  one  of  suffering, 
which  is,  oh,  such  a  rest  to  us  !  She  is  now  able  to  ar- 
ticulate, so  that  I  always,  and  others  often,  can  under- 
stand her.  She  feels  painfully  the  great  weight  of  the 
useless  limbs,  but  we  are  a  little  able  to  relieve  this  by 
making  tiny  pillows  of  cotton  wool,  which  support  them 
in  different  places.  We  have  plenty  of  kind  help.  Mrs. 
Woodward  comes  and  goes  constantly,  and  on  Monday 
night  we  were  pleasantly  surprised  by  the  arrival  of 
Amabile  from  Pisa,  who  is  quite  a  tower  of  strength  to 
us,  as  Lea's  intense  devotion  and  motherly  tenderness 
for  her  poor  helpless  mistress  could  not  have  kept  her 
up  under  the  ever-increasing  fatigue.  I  sleep  on  the 
floor  by  mother's  side,  and  scarcely  ever  leave  her." 

"May  15.  —  The  weather  has  been  absolutely  per- 
fect. I  never  remember  such  weeks  of  hot  sunshine, 
and  yet  never  oppressive,  such  a  delicious  bracing  air 
always.     The  flowers  are  quite  glorious,  and  our  poor 


364  RECORDS    OF    A    QUIET    LIFE. 

people  —  grateful  as  Italians  always  are  —  keep  the 
sick-room  constantly  supplied  with  the  loveliest  roses 
ever  seen. 

"  But,  alas,  it  has  been  a  very  sad  week  nevertheless, 
and  if  I  ever  allowed  myself  to  think  of  it,  my  heart 
would  sink  within  me.  My  dearest  mother  has  been  so 
very,  very  suffering,  in  fact  there  have  been  few  hours 
free  from  really  acute  pain,  and  in  spite  of  her  sweet 
patience,  and  her  natural  leaning  only  towards  thanks- 
giving, her  wails  have  been  most  piteous,  and  the  flesh 
indeed  a  burden.  .  .  .  Dr.  Grigor  told  Lea  it  was  the 
most  suffering  phase  of  paralysis,  and  that  it  usually 
produced  such  dreadful  impatience  that  he  wondered  at 
her  power  of  self-control,  but  from  my  sweetest  mother 
we  never  hear  one  word  which  is  not  of  perfect  patience 
and  faith  and  thanksgiving,  though  her  prayers  aloud 
for  patience  are  sometimes  almost  too  touching  for  us. to 
bear.  She  thinks  with  interest  of  the  story  of  the  cen- 
turion's servant,  —  'grievously  tormented.'  She  is  con- 
stantly repeating  hymns,  and  her  memory  for  them  is 
wonderful,  indeed  they  are  her  chief  occupation." 

"  May  26. — Terrible  as  the  gulf  seems  between  us 
and  England,  we  hope  to  set  out  on  Monday.  Each 
day  now  is  a  farewell.  Mother  has  been  able  to  go 
several  drives,  and  has  used  each  of  them  to.  see  some 
favorite  place  for  the  last  time,  —  the  Coliseum,  the 
Parco  di  SanGregorio,  —  the  Lateran,  —  and,  last  of  all, 
the  grave  at  the  cemetery  of  Caius  Cestius.  The  senti- 
nel allowed  her  little  carriage  to  pass  along  the  turf,  and 
so  she  reached  it  and  took  leave  of  it,  knowing  she  could 
never  see  it  again.  Many  former  servants  and  poor 
women  we  have  known  here  have  begged  to  see  her 
once  more, —  they  all  kiss  her  hands  with  tears  on  tak- 


THE  SUNSET  BEFORE  THE  DAWN.      365 

ing  leave,  and  are  most  of  all  affected  by  her  helpless 
state  and  sweet  face  of  patience." 

"  Florence \  June  1.  —  Monday  was  a  terribly  fatiguing 
day,  but  mother  remained  in  bed  and  was  very  composed, 
only  most  anxious  that  nothing  should  occur  to  delay 
the  departure,  and  to  prove  that  she  was  quite  well 
enough  for  it.  At  five  p.  m.  Mrs.  Woodward  came  and 
sate  by  her  while  we  were  occupied  with  last  prepara- 
tions, and  at  six  Miss  F.  came.  At  seven  mother  was 
carried  down,  and  went  off  in  a  little  low  carriage 
with  Mrs.  Woodward  and  Lea,  I  following  in  a  large 
carriage  with  Miss  F.  and  the  luggage.  There  was  quite 
a  collection  of  our  humbler  friends  to  see  her  off  and 
kiss  hands.  At  the  railway  the  poor  Maria  de  Bonis 
was  waiting,  and  she  and  Mrs.  Woodward  remained 
with  mother,  and  had  her  carried  straight  through  by 
the  side  entrance  to  the  railway  coupe  which  was  se- 
cured for  us.  We  felt  deeply  having  then  to  take  leave 
of  the  kindest  of  friends,  who  has  been  such  a  comfort 
and  blessing  to  us,  —  certainly,  next  to  you,  the  chief 
support  of  mother's  later  years.  '  Oh,  how  beautiful  it 
will  be  when  the  gates  which  are  now  ajar  are  quite 
open  ! '    were  her  last  words  to  mother. 

"  The  carriage  was  most  luxuriously  comfortable,  little 
sofas  to  let  down,  and  so  much  room,  every  appliance 
for  an  invalid,  —  nothing  like  it  in  England.  Mother 
slept  a  little,  and  though  she  wailed  occasionally,  it  was 
no  worse  than  an  ordinary  night.  The  dawn  was  lovely 
over  the  rich  Tuscan  valleys,  so  bright  with  vines  and 
corn,  tall  cypresses,  and  high  villa  roofs ;  she  quite  en- 
joyed it.  She  was  carried  straight  through  to  a  carriage 
on  arriving  here,  and  so  to  the  hotel." 


366  RECORDS   OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

The  remainder  of  the  journey  to  England  was 
managed  by  slow  stages  and  several  days'  rest  in 
the  reviving  air  of  Macon,  and  at  last,  on  the  16th 
of  June,  with  almost  as  great  surprise  as  thankful- 
ness, we  found  ourselves  at  Holmhurst. 

For  some  time  my  mother  continued  in  such  a 
state  of  utter  prostration  from  the  effort  she  had 
made,  that  she  was  scarcely  able  to  notice  the  fact 
of  her  having  arrived  safely  in  her  beloved  home, 
but  then  she  regained  a  certain  portion  of  strength, 
and  for  four  precious  months  she  was  restored  to 
be  our  joy  and  blessing.  She  never  recovered  the 
lost  power  of  her  limbs,  but  she  was  able  almost 
every  day  to  be  carried  down  to  her  garden,  and  to 
sit  for  hours  amongst  her  flowers.  In  her  great 
helplessness  she  seemed  to  find  each  hour  too 
short  for  her  outpouring  of  thanksgiving,  and  as  if 
she  was  unable  to  see  any  thing  but  the  silver  lining 
of  all  her  clouds,  so  incessantly  did  she  dwell  upon 
the  abundance  of  her  mercies,  so  unfailingly  did 
she  rejoice  in  the  love  and  beauty  which  surrounded 
her.  Her  dear  cousin,  Miss  Leycester,  passed  the 
whole  of  September  with  her,  and  many  loving 
friends  and  nieces  came  in  turn  to  cheer  and  com- 
fort, and  went  away  feeling  that  they  themselves 
instead  were  cheered  and  comforted.  Her  memory 
seemed  not  only  unimpaired,  but  intensified.  She 
could  repeat  the  whole  of  the  Psalms  and  innumer- 
able hymns,  and  they  seemed  to  soothe  and  help 
her  whenever  her  pains  returned. 


THE   SUNSET   BEFORE   THE    DAWN.  367 

Augustus  J.  C.  Hare's  Journal. 

"July  11.  —  The  mother  often  talks  to  me  in  her 
hymns.  To-night,  when  I  left  her,  she  said,  with  her 
lovely  sweetness,  *  Good-night,  darling, 

"  Go  sleep  like  closing  flowers  at  night, 
And  Heaven  your  morn  will  bless."  ' 

'  I  never  wish  to  leave  you,'  she  said  one  day.  *  I  never 
wish  for  death,  —  always  remember  that.  I  should 
like  to  stay  with  you  as  long  as  ever  I  can.  ...  I  try 
so  not  to  groan  when  you  are  here  ;  you  must  not  grudge 
me  a  few  groans  when  you  go  out  of  the  room.'  " 

"July  18.  —  'I  had  such  a  sweet  dream  of  your  aunt 
Lucy  last  night.  I  thought  we  were  together  again,  so 
that  I  could  speak  to  her,  and  I  said,  "  How  I  do  miss 
you,"  and  she  said  she  was  near  me.  I  do  not  know  if 
I  had  been  thinking  of  — 

11  Saints  in  glory  perfect  made 
Wait  thine  escort  through  the  shade." 

I  think,  perhaps,  I  had  been  thinking  of  that.' " 

"July  19.  —  'Yes,  I  know  the  Psalms,  many  in  your 

uncle  Julius's  version  too.     Many  a  time  it  keeps  me 

quiet  for  hours  to  know  and  repeat  them.  I  should  never 

have  got  through  my  journey  if  I  had  not  had  so  many 

to  repeat,  to  still  the  impatience.' " 

"August  7.  —  'Read   me   the   end   of  the   Pilgrim's 

Progress,  about  the  entering  upon  the  Land  of  Beulah  ; 

that  is  what  I  like  to  dwell  upon.' " 

"Oct.  20.  —  'I  always  think  that  walking  through  one 

of  the  Roman  picture  galleries  is  like  walking  through 

the  Old  and  New  Testament,  with  the  blessed  company 

of  apostles  and  martyrs  by  one's  side.' " 


368  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

"Nov.  4.  —  My  mother  has  been  almost  free  from  pain 
for  two  months,  with  many  hours  of  real  pleasure  in  the 
flowers  and  sunshine.  She  has  been  up  in  her  chair 
daily  from  two  to  five  p.  m.  Sometimes  she  has  even 
been  able  to  write  down  some  of  her  '  Ricordi.'  After 
tea  I  have  generally  read  to  her,  concluding  with  a 
chapter  and  some  hymns.  Last  night  I  read  Luke  xvi. 
and  a  hymn  on  '  Rest,'  which  she  asked  for.  When  I 
was  going  to  wish  her  good-night,  she  said,  '  I  do  hope, 
darling,  I  am  not  like  the  ungrateful  lepers.  I  try  to  be 
always  praising  God,  but  I  know  that  I  never  can  praise 
Him  enough  for  his  many,  many  mercies  to  me.'  I 
could  not  but  feel  in  the  alarm  which  so  soon  followed, 
if  my  dearest  one  never  spoke  to  me  again,  what  beauti- 
ful last  words  those  would  have  been,  and  how  charac- 
teristic of  her ;  for  at  two  p.  m.  that  night  I  was  awaked 
by  the  dreadful  sound  which  has  haunted  me  ever  since 
the  night  of  March  12  in  the  Via  Gregoriana.  It  was 
another  paralytic  seizure."  .  .  . 

"Nov.  9.  —  There  is  no  great  change,  —  a  happy, 
painless  state,  the  mind  very  feeble,  all  its  power  gone, 
but  peaceful,  loving,  full  of  patience,  faith,  and  thank- 
fulness." 

"Nov.  16.  —  And  since  I  wrote  last,  the  great,  the  un- 
utterable desolation,  so  long  looked  for,  so  often  warded 
off,  has  come  to  me. 

"  On  Thursday,  the  10th,  my  mother  was  much  better, 
though  her  mind  was  a  little  feeble.  I  felt  then,  as  I 
feel  a  thousand  times  more  now,  how  strangely  mistaken 
people  were  who  spoke  of  the  trial  her  mental  feebleness 
might  be  to  me.  It  only  endeared  her  to  me  a  thousand- 
fold,—  her  gentle  confidence,  her  sweet  clinging  to 
supply  the  words  and  ideas  which  no  longer  came  as 


THE  SUNSET  BEFORE  THE  DAWN.      369 

quickly  as  they  used,  —  made  her  only  more  unspeakably 
lovable.  On  this  day  I  remember  that  she  mentioned 
several  times  that'  she  heard  beautiful  music  :  this  made 
no  impression  on  me  then. 

"  Friday,  the  1  ith,  was  one  of  her  brightest  days.  I 
forget  whether  it  was  that  morning  or  the  next  that  my 
darling  told  me  she  had  had  such  a  beautiful  dream  of 
her  childhood  and  of  Alderley,  '  and  old  Lady  Corbet, 
who  first  taught  me  to  know  what  was  beautiful.' 

"  At  two  p.  m.  she  was  helped  up,  and  partly  dressed, 
and  sate  in  her  large  arm-chair  by  the  fire,  with  her 
pretty  old-fashioned  cap  on,  and  a  nice  little  scarlet 
cloak  which  Miss  Wright  had  given  her.  She  wrote  a 
little  letter,  and  then  I  read  to  her.  After  her  tea  at 
four  o'clock,  I  sate  at  her  feet,  and  she  talked  to  me  most 
sweetly  of  all  the  places  she  had  admired  most  in  the 
different  stages  of  her  life,  —  of  Llangollen,  in  her 
childhood,  and  Capel  Curig,  and  the  beech-wood  at 
Alderley,  —  of  Rhianva,  and  of  many  places  abroad, 
especially  Narni,  and  Villar  in  the  Vaudois,  of  which 
I  had  been  making  a  drawing.  Then  she  asked  to 
have  one  of  her  old  journals  read,  and  I  read  one  of 
Rome,  and  she  spoke  of  how  much  happiness  she  had 
enjoyed  there, — though  she  had  endured  much  suffer- 
ing. She  spoke  of  the  pines  in  the  Pamfili  Doria.  She 
was  especially  bright  and  sunny.  I  remember  saying  to 
her  playfully,  as  I  sate  at  her  feet,  '  Take  a  little  notice 
of  me,  darling ;  you  do  not  take  enough  notice  of  me,' 
and  her  stroking  my  head  and  saying,  'Oh,  you  dear 
child  ! '  and  laughing. 

"  At  six  o'clock  she  was  put  to  bed.     Afterwards  1 
read  to  her  a  chapter  in  St.  Luke,  — '  Let  this  cup  pass 
from  me,' —  and  sate  in  the  room  till  half-past  nine  ;  and 
16*  x 


370  RECORDS   OF   A    QUIET    LIFE. 

except  her  own  tender  '  good-night,'  when  I  went  down- 
stairs then,  I  cannot  recollect  that  she  spoke.  I  remem- 
ber looking  back  as  I  opened  the  door,  and  seeing  my 
sweet  mother  lying  upon  her  side,  as  she  always  did,  and 
her  dear  eyes  following  me  with  a  more  than  usually 
tender  expression  as  I  left  the  room. 

"  When  I  went  back  again  in  an  hour  she  was  very 
ill.  .  .  .  She  scarcely  spoke  again ;  and,  as  for  all  those 
thirty-six  hours  which  followed  I  never  left  her,  they  all 
seem  to  me  like  one  long  terrible  night.  I  remember 
nothing  distinctly.  .  .  .  Each  hour  of  Saturday  night  I 
became  more  alarmed.  Towards  dawn,  kneeling  on  the 
bed,  I  said  the  hymn,  '  Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee,'  and 
some  of  the  short  prayers  in  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick, 
but  she  was  then  fading  rapidly,  and  at  last  I  said  the 
hymn, '  How  bright  those  glorious  spirits  shine,'  which 
we  had  agreed  should  only  be  used  as  the  sign  that  I 
k?iew  that  the  solemn  hour  of  our  parting  was  surely 
come.  I  think  that  then  my  darling  knew  this  too. 
About  half-past  9  a.  m.  all  suffering  ceased.  My  mother, 
whose  eyes  were  fast  closing  then,  fixed  them  upon  me 
with  a  long,  long  farewell  look  of  her  own  unfathomable, 
unsurpassable  love ;  then  turned  to  Lea,  then  again  to 
me,  and  then,  as  I  rang  the  bell  at  my  elbow,  and  her 
other  faithful  servants,  in  answer,  passed  sobbing  into 
the  room,  and  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  my  darling, 
my  most  precious  mother,  just  when  the  first  stroke  of 
the  church-bell  sounded  for  morning-prayers,  gently, 
very  gently,  —  with  a  lovely  expression  of  intense  beati- 
tude fixed  on  something  beyond  us,  —  gently  sighed  away 
her  spirit  in  my  arms. 

"  When  the  sweet  eyes  closed,  and  the  dear  face  lost 
its  last  shadow  of  color,  I  came  away.     As  I  passed  the 


THE  SUNSET  BEFORE  THE  DAWN.      371 

window  I  saw  the  first  snow-flakes  fall.  But  she  is 
beyond  the  reach  of  winter  now,  —  snow  and  frost  can 
never  signify  any  more. 


"  And  since  then  her  precious  earthly  form  has  been 
lying,  with  her  hands  folded  on  her  breast  as  if  she  were 
praying,  —  the  dear  lame  hand  quite  supple  now,  and 
softly  folded  upon  the  other.  Her  face  has  lost  every 
sign  of  suffering,  and  even  of  age,  and  her  features  are 
smooth  and  white,  as  if  they  were  chiselled  in  marble. 
Her  closed  eyelids  and  sweetly  curving  mouth  express 
the  most  perfect  restfulness.  The  room  is  draped  with 
white  and  filled  with  flowers.  Two  large  camellias  stand 
at  the  head  of  the  bed,  making  a  kind  of  bower,  beneath 
which  she  lies.  On  the  table,  draped  with  white,  are  all 
her  own  especial  objects,  —  her  now  sacred  relics,  —  her 
bronze  wolf,  her  little  gold  tray  with  her  spectacles, 
smelling-bottle,  &c,  and  all  her  special  hymn-books. 

"  At  first  I  went  in  often  in  my  great  agony,  but  I  did 

not  draw  down  the  sheet,  but  now  I  draw  it  down  and 

look  at  my  dearest  one  in  her  solemn,  unearthly  repose. 

.  .  .  This  wonderful  beauty  is  God's  merciful  gift  to 

comfort  me." 


I  have  copied  these  fragments  from  my  journal 
at  the  time.  I  could  not  go  over  that  time  again 
afresh.  Perhaps  to  others  they  will  be  of  no  in- 
terest ;  .  .  .  but  I  will  just  leave  them. 

The  funeral  was  on  Nov.  21,  at  Hurstmonceaux. 
For  her,  with  whom  every  association  was  sunshine, 
all  the  usual  signs  of  a  funeral  seemed  out  of  place. 


372  RECORDS    OF   A   QUIET   LIFE. 

There  was  no  gloomy  hearse,  no  "  panoply  "  of  grief ; 
but  her  coffin,  wreathed  with  flowers,  lay  in  the 
drawing-room  at  Hurstmonceaux  Place,  and  thither 
those  who  loved  her  most  —  the  children  of  her 
brother  and  sister,  with  their  husbands  and  wives, 
and  many  old  friends  —  came  to  follow  her  to  the 
grave.  Through  the  well-known  lanes  the  precious 
burden  was  carried  by  eighteen  bearers  in  white 
smock-frocks,  looking  (said  one  who  saw  them  from 
a  distance)  "  like  a  great  band  of  choristers,"  to  the 
old  church  on  the  hill-top,  connected  with  so  many 
sacred  memories.  Many  of  the  poor,  who  so  ten- 
derly loved  her,  were  present  in  the  church  —  many 
who  had  wept  with  and  for  her  by  the  graves  of  her 
lost  and  loved  ones  gone  before,  and  laid  in  that 
churchyard. 

There — not  far  from  the  ancient  storm-beaten 
yew-tree,  beneath  which  Julius  and  Marcus  are 
buried,  but  more  in  the  sunshine,  on  the  terraced 
edge  of  the  churchyard,  looking  down  upon  the 
Level,  which  she  used  to  delight  in  as  like  the 
Roman  Campagna — is  our  sacred  resting-place. 
A  white  marble  cross  marks  it  now.  It  is  only 
inscribed  — 

Maria  Hare. 

Nov.  22,  1798;  Nov.  13,  1870. 

Until  the  Daybreak. 

These  family  memorials  are  ended  now.  Nearly 
all  those  who  shared  my  mother's  gentle  companion- 


THE    SUNSET   BEFORE   THE    DAWN.  373 

ship  have  passed  away  from  earth,  and  we  may 
believe  that  with  her  they  "  inherit  the  promises." 

The  story  of  their  quiet  life  is  one  which  tells 
how  they  were  led  heavenwards  by  no  strange  turn- 
ing, but  through  a  straight  path  leading  through 
various  scenes,  and  thickly  fraught,  as  most  earthly 
paths  are,  with  alternate  joys  and  sorrows.  If  this 
story. shall  help,  guide,  and  comfort  any  after  pil- 
grims in  the  same  common  way,  it  will  have  fulfilled 
the  wishes  of  her  who,  in  that  hope,  permitted  it  to 
be  written,  as  well  as.  those  of  the  writer,  —  her 
most  desolate  son. 

"  Day  after  day,  we  think  what  she  is  doing, 
In  the  bright  realms  of  air  ; 
Year  after  year,  her  gentle  steps  pursuing, 
Behold  her  grown  more  fair. 

"Thus  do  we  walk  with  her,  and  keep  unbroken 
The  bond  which  Nature  gives  ; 
Thinking  that  pur  remembrance,  tho'  unspoken, 
May  reach  her  where  she  lives." 


Cambridge  :   Press  of  John  Wilson  &  Son. 


*4     ROBERTS  BROTHERS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


THE 

INTELLECTUAL    LIFE. 

By   PHILIP   GILBERT   HAMERTON, 

AUTHOR  OF 

"A  Painter's  Camp,"  "Thoughts  About  Art,"  "The  Un- 
known River,"  "Chapters  on  Animals." 

Square  l2mo,  cloth,  gilt.     Price  $2.00. 

From  the  Christian  Union. 

44  In  many  respects  this  is  a  remarkable  book,  —  the  last  and  best  production 
of  a  singularly  well  balanced  and  finely  cultured  mind.  No  man  whose  life  was 
not  lifted  above  the  anxieties  of  a  bread-winning  life  could  have  written  this  work ; 
which  is  steeped  in  that  sweetness  and  light,  the  virtues  of  which  Mr.  Arnold  so 
eloquently  preaches.     Compared  with  Mr.    Hamerton's  former  writings,   'The 

Intellectual   Life'   is  incomparably  his  best  production But  above  all, 

and  specially  as  critics,  are  we  charmed  with  the  large  impartiality  of  the  writer. 
Mr  Hamerton  is  one  of  those  peculiarly  fortunate  men  who  have  the  inclination 
and  means  to  live  an  ideal  life.  From  his  youth  he  has  lived  in  an  atmosphere 
of  culture  and  light,  moving  with  clipped  wings  in  a  charmed  circle  of  thought. 
Possessing  a  peculiarly  refined  and  delicate  nature,  a  passionate  love  of  beauty, 
and  purity  and  art ;  and  having  the  means  to  gratify  his  tastes,  Mr.  Hamerton 
has  held  himself  aloof  from  the  commonplace  routine  of  life ;  and  by  constant 
study  of  books  and  nature  and  his  fellow  men,  has  so  purified  his  intellect  and 
tempered  his  judgment,  that  he  is  able  to  view  things  from  a  higher  platform  even 
than  more  able  men  whose  natures  have  been  soured,  cramped,  or  influenced  by 
the  necessities  of  a  laborious  existence.  Hence  the  rare  impartiality  of  his  deci- 
sions, the  catholicity  of  his  views,  and  the  sympathy  with  which  he  can  discuss 
the  most  irreconcilable  doctrines.  To  read  Mr.  Hamerton's  writings  is  an  intel- 
lectual luxury.  They  are  not  boisterously  strong,  or  exciting,  or  even  very  forci- 
ble ;  but  they  are  instinct  with  the  finest  feeling,  the  broadest  sympathies,  and  a 
philosophic  calm  that  acts  like  an  opiate  on  the  unstrung  nerves  of  the  hard- 
wrought  literary  reader.  Calm,  equable,  and  beautiful,  'The  Intellectual  Life,' 
when  contrasted  with  the  sensational  and  half  digested  clap-trap  that  forms  so 
large  a  portion  of  contemporary  literature,  reminds  one  of  the  old  picture  of  the 
nuns,  moving  about,  calm  and  self-possessed,  through  the  fighting  and  blasphem- 
ing crowds  that  thronged  the  beleagured  city." 

"This  book  is  written  with  perfect  singleness  of  purpose  to  help  others 
towards  an  intellectual  life,"  says  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  It  is  eminently  a  book  of  counsel  and  instruction,"  says  the  Boston  Post. 

" A  book,  which  it  seems  to  us  will  take  a  permanent  place  in  literature, 
says  the  New  York  Daily  Mail. 

Sold  by  all  Booksellers.  Mailed,  postpaid,  by  the  Pub- 
lishers, 

ROBERTS  BROTHERS,  Boston. 


Books  on  Art 

PUBLISHED    BY 

ROBERTS    BROTHERS,    BOSTON. 


LAOCOON :  An  Essay  upon  the  Limits  of  Painting 
and  Poetry.  With  remarks  illustrative  of  various  points 
in  the  History  of  Ancient  Art.  By  Gotthold  Ephraim 
Lessing.  Translated  by  Ellen  Frothingham.  One 
volume,  i6mo,  with  pictorial  title,  representing  the  La- 
ocoon.     Price  $1.50. 

From  Lewes' s  Life  of  Goethe. 

"  The  incomparable  little  book.  ...  Its  effect  upon  Goethe  can  only  be  appre- 
ciated by  those  who,  early  in  life,  have  met  with  this  work,  and  risen  from  it  with 
minds  widened,  strengthened,  and  inspired.  It  opened  a  pathway  amid  confusion, 
throwing  light  upon  many  of  the  obscurest  problems  which  torment  the  artist.  .  .  . 
Lord  Macaulay  told  me  that  the  reading  of  this  little  book  formed  an  epoch  in  his 
mental  history,  and  that  he  learned  more  about  Art  from  it  than  he  had  ever 
learned  elsewhere." 

Front  the  Boston  Daily  A  dvertiser. 

"  We  wish  it  were  a  text-book  in  the  colleges,  for,  in  addition  to  the  excellence 
of  its  contents,  it  is,  in  respect  to  its  style  and  method,  a  specimen  of  the  best  sort 
of  writing." 

L.  C.  M.,  in  the  New  York  Tribune. 

"  The  essay  is  worthy  a  place  in  every  library,  since  it  will  greatly  assist  any 
intelligent  reader  in  his  comprehension  and  criticism  of  both  anctent  and  modern 
art ;  but  especially  it  should  be  studied  by  every  poet  who  has  a  story  to  tell,  every 
Bculptor  who  would  make  a  statue,  and  every  painter  who  would  paint  a  picture." 

THOUGHTS  ABOUT  ART.  By  Philip  Gilbert 
Hamerton.  New  edition,  revised,  with  Notes  and  an 
Introduction.  One  handsome  volume,  uniform  with  Ham- 
erton's  "  Intellectual  Life."     Price  $2.00. 

"  Fortunate  is  he  who,  at  an  early  age,  knows  what  Art  is."  —  Goethe. 
Front  Lippincott s  Magazine. 
"  Mr.  Hamerton  is  a  landscape  painter  whose  eminence  has  been  won  by  long 
years  of  labor.  He  has  spent  season  after  season  in  the  wildest  parts  of  the  Scotch 
Highlands  ;  he  has  painted  in  all  sorts  of  weather  and  at  every  degree  of  tempera* 
ture,  and  he  has  overcome  the  difficulties  of  his  profession  by  the  invention  of  a 
hut  tor  winter  and  a  tent  for  summer,  so  admirably  constructed  that  we  long  to  be 
with  him  while  he  is  defying  the  violence  of  the  storm  and  watching  through  his 
broad  glass  window,  with  quick  eye  and  ready  pencil,  the  tempestuous  pano- 
rama before  him.  .  .  .  Secure  of  his  position,  and  possessing  the  literary  facility  so 
seldom  found  in  his  craft,  he  has  written  this  book  to  tell  the  world,  if  only  it  will 
isten,  how  noble  and  serious  a  profession  is  Art-" 


THE    LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    MADAME 

SWETCHINE.     By  Count  de   FalloOX,    1  vol.  16mo.    Price 
$150. 

THE  WRITINGS  OF  MADAME   SWETCHINE. 

Edited  by  Count  dk  S  alloux.    1  vol.  16mo.    Price  $1.25. 


MADAME  SWETCHINE. 

BY  LUCY  LARCOM. 

A  well-written  history  of  an  excellent  and  gifted  woman,  like  the  '•  Life  and 
Letters  of  Madame  Swetchine,"  by  Count  de  Falloux,  will  naturally  meet  with  a 
welcome  among  people  of  the  truest  culture.  Madame  Swetchine  was  not  a 
woman  who  courted  publicity  ;  but  the  thread  of  her  life  was  so  interwoven  with 
the  political  and  religious  movements  of  her  time,  it  was  impossible  for  her  to 
escape  notice.  And  it  brightens  that  dark  period  of  strife  between  France  and 
Russia,  with  which  the  present  century  opened,  to  follow  the  life-track  of  this 
Russian  lady,  who  seemed  to  have  been  equally  at  home  in  both  countries. 

She  was  intimately  acquainted  with  the  noblest  men  and  women  of  that  i*e- 
markable  period,  and  there  is  not  one  of  them  upon  whom  her  friendship  does  not 
cast  a  beautiful  glow. 

She  was  one  of  those  rare  beings  who  seem  to  have  been  created  to  draw  out 
what  is  best  in  others,  by  the  power  of  sympathy  and  self-forgett'ulness.  She  was 
a  woman  of  uncommon  intellect,  and  of  wide  reading  ;  and  every  thing  she  read 
was  brought  to  the  standard  of  a  judgment  remarkably  clear  and  penetrative 
indeed,  her  conversion  to  the  Roman  Catholic  faith  seems  to  have  been  mostly  a 
matter  of  the  head,  —  a  choice  between  the  Greek  and  the  liouian  ecclcsiasticiMiis 
Long  before  her  decision  was  made,  her  life  shows  her  to  have  been  a  humble  and 
earnest  Christian ;  and,  as  such,  as  one  whose  sympathies  took  wing  higher  and 
wider  than  the  opinions  in  which  she  had  caged  herself,  her  history  has  a  rare  value 

One  wonders  at  the  amount  of  good  accomplished  by  her.  always  a  weak  in- 
valid. In  order  to  understand  how  she  lived,  and  what  she  did,  the  book  must  be 
read  through  ;  but  some  extracts  might  give  a  hint  of  it :  — 

"  She  rarely  gave  what  is  called  advice,  —  an  absolute  solution  of  a  given 
problem  :  her  humility  made  her  shrink  from  direct  responsibilities.  She  did  not 
lecture  you.  She  did  not  set  herself  up  as  a  model  or  guide.  She  did  not  say 
'  Walk  thus  ; '  but  sweetly.  4  Let  us  walk  together ; '  and  so,  without  making  the 
slightest  pretensions,  she  often  guided  those  she  seemed  to  follow.  Young  and 
old  acknowledged  her  sway.  She  never  evoked  a  sentiment  of  rivalry,  because  no 
one  ever  detected  in  her  a  temptation  to  win  admiration  at  the  expense  of  others, 
or  to  eclipse  any  person  whatever.  Her  disinterestedness  won  pardon  for  her 
superiority 

4k  Sick  and  erring  hearts  came  and  revealed  themselves  to  Madame  Swetchine 
in  all  sincerity  ;  and  she  shed  upon  them,  sweetly  and  gradually,  light  and  truth 
and  life. 

M  In  her  turn  she  drew  from  this  intimate  intercourse,  added  to  her  own  ex- 
quisite penetration,  a  knowledge  of  the  human  heart  which  amounted  almost  to 
divination.  _  She  knew  the  science  of  the  soul  as  physicians  know  that  of  the  body 

"  Her  charity  was  not  a  careless  and  mechanical  practice.  She  consecrated 
to  it  all  her  strength  and  all  her  skill.  Almsgiving  was  not,  with  her,  the  menj 
fulfilment  of  a  duty.  She  liked  to  give  pleasure  besides  doing  good,  and  her 
heart  always  added  something  to  what  her  hand  gave." 

Madame  Swetchine  lived  a  little  beyond  the  boundaries  of  threescore  and  ten 
It  is  only  ten  years  since  she  died.  Heaven  does  not  ask  to  what  communion  shu 
belonged,  neither  will  posterity.  The  memory  of  her  saintliness  is  a  possession 
to  the  church  universal,  in  the  present  and  in  the  future  Such  a  record  as  hera 
is  an  inspiration  to  all  who  read  ;  such  an  example,  the  most  imperative  "  Go 
thou  and  do  likewise." 


Sold  by  all  booksellers.     Mailed,  postpaid,  by  the  publishers. 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Boston. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications, 

ASPENDALE.     By  Harriet  W.  Preston.     One 
volume.     i6mo.     Price  $1.25. 

From  the  Boston  Daily  A  dvertiser. 

"  Aspendale"  is  the  title  of  an  uncommon  and  thoroughly  pleasing  and  interest- 
ing book.  It  is  neither  story  nor  essay ;  but  bright,  thoughtful,  and  suggestive 
talk  about  literature  and  society. 

By  Harriet  APEwen  Kimball. 

If  we  may  accept  as  an  index  of  growing  popularity  the  multiplication  of  quiet, 
unssusational,  thoughtful,  discursive,  and  slightly  argumentative  books,  we  may 
belisve  the  public  taste  is  being  regenerated,  and  hence  find  unwonted  pleasure  in 
crn.'nending  to  readers  in  general  the  volume  now  before  us.  "  Aspendale"  has 
been  styled  "  a  story  and  an  essay."  After  reading  it,  one  makes  a  mental  transpo- 
sition of  those  words,  —the  story  being  too  slight  for  any  other  purpose  than  that  of 
sustaining  the  dialogues,  and  the  essay  too  continuous  and  admirable  to  give  place 
in  importance  to  the  comparatively  trivial  incidents  of  the  tale.  The  book  opens 
charmingly.  The  characters  are  delicately  and  clearly  drawn,  and  one  cannot  but 
think  the  "always  harmonious"  Christine,  the  gracious  centre  of  the  delightful 
group,  is  sketched  from  life. 

Miss  Preston's  style  is  simple,  pure,  forceful, — leaving  the  impression  not 
alone  of  culture  and  refinement  of  no  ordinary  kind  or  degree,  but  of  a  reserved 
strength  and  wealth  of  thought  out  of  which  companion  volumes  may  one  day 
escape  into  print,  as  we  trust  they  will. 

John  G.  Saxe,  in  the  A  Ibany  Journal. 
"Aspendale,"  by  Harriet  \V.  Preston,  has  made  a  decided  hit,  especially 
among  the  literati,  as  an  extremely  clever  essay,  with  a  slight  thread  of  narrative 
running  through  its  pages,  on  many  persons  and  topics  very  pleasant  to  read 
about.  .  .  .  Miss  Preston  has  a  keen  and  brilliant  wit,  a  good  deal  of  humor, 
and  never  makes  the  mistake  (so  common  with  lady  satirists)  of  supposing  that 
coarseness  is  wit,  or  scolding  satire.  Indeed,  her  judgment,  good  temper,  and 
good  taste  are  as  conspicuous  in  this  charming  little  book,  as  her  satirical  acumen 
and  polished  pungency  of  style. 

From  the  Literary  World. 
Perhaps  the  keenest  and  most  enjoyable  chapter  in  the  book  is  that  numbered 
V.  It  is  one  of  the  most  direct  and  telling  assaults  on  "practical  aristocracy," 
its  representatives  and  defenders,  we  ever  read.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  comes  in 
for  a  scoring,  every  tingle  and  smart  of  which  his  scientific  knowledge  of  anatomy 
will,  no  doubt,  help  him  to  appreciate.  It  has  been  his  habit,  as  his  many  admir- 
ers are  aware,  to  sneer  at  persons  of  "bucolic  antecedents,"  and  to  declare,  in 
mellifluous  and  witty  phrase,  that  a  man  with  red  hands,  rude  speech,  and  ill-fitting 
dress,  can  never  enter  into  the  most  desirable  heaven,  which  is  reserved  for  the 
Brahmins,  of  whom  he,  O.  W.  H.,  is  the  High  Priest  and  orator.  Miss  Preston 
has  ventured  to  call  him  to  account,  and  in  thirty-odd  strong  and  stinging  pages 
subjects  the  modern  Sir  Piercie  Shafton  to  most  wholesome  discipline.  .  .  .  We 
should  be  glad  to  quote  much  more  of  this  energetic  and  dignified  rebuke  of 
Boston  Braiiminism,  and  especially  to  reproduce  the  author's  tribute  to  Abraham 
Lincoln,  —  who  was  not  a  "  gentleman,"  according  to  the  standard  of  Dr.  Holmes, — 
one  of  the  finest  eulogies  ever  pronounced  upon  him  ;  but  our  limits  will  not  per- 
mit, and  we  must  close  this  notice  with  a  simple  commendation  of  "  Aspendale," 
as  one  of  the  brightest,  freshest,  heartiest,  and  strongest  books  that  have  been  pub- 
lished in  a  long  time. 

Sold  everywhere.    Mailed,  postpaid,  by  the  Publishers, 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Boston. 


